


The Whole World - New York

by 8hephaestion8



Series: The World [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: 1920s, 1930s, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Armie Hammer - Freeform, Boyfriends, Boys Kissing, F/M, French Kissing, Gay Sex, Kissing, M/M, New York, Oral Sex, Sex, The Hamptons, The Plaza Hotel, Timothy Chalamet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-09 19:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 34,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15274587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8hephaestion8/pseuds/8hephaestion8
Summary: "all men… are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights... [including] life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness".-	But not everybody gets their share of happinessThis is a story which shows Timothee and Armie in New York's gilded society, before today's easy access to media and information but with similar moral attitudes.  The period which seems to fit is the 1920s-30s, there is prohibition but amongst the wealthy, no restriction on drink or behaviour.  I also wanted to examine how Armie might react if he doesn't get what he wants, so stand by for some angst.  I want to draw on some themes in The Great Gatsby, so although you won't read a repeat of that story (I am not stupid, I cannot do it justice) there is some great social history to draw upon.  That period saw the development of New York as it is known today, there are many apartment blocks and buildings which came out of the 1920s and 1930, they were symptomatic of what was happening in America and preceded the first Great Wall Street Crash, which it appears no one saw coming, ie just like in recent time.This is fiction, I do not know these people, added to which the story is set in 1920/30s, they were not even born.





	1. Gala

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
> 
> I have taken some liberties with timelines, some of the performers/famous characters were not active at the time indicated, they serve a purpose in as much as they give an indication of the kind of activities available at the time.

"all men… are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights... [including] life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness".

  * But not everybody gets their share of happiness



 

Armie dropped Stella's hand. 

“Who is he?”

  
Stella was resigned. Armie glided through life, lucky in love and business. She had known him since she was six and about to go into first grade. She had loved him on first sight, her parents first looked on and laughed, then teased, then became concerned, finally resigned. She was his confidante and erstwhile sometime lover.  Stella would drop anything she was doing to be with him. He came to her for advice on work, life and love.  She knew him inside out, what made him tick, they were a companion pair, he loved her but not in the way she wanted.

Many years ago when they were both twenty, Armie had told her:

“I will hurt you, I love you but I will always hurt you.  You have already unwrapped me, seen all of me, I have nothing left to give you. Because you know me so very well I have nothing left to show you, and I will take what you continue to offer me because I like you and I want you to be my friend. I am not going to lie to you, this is how it is, and this is going to hurt you.”

He was of course wrong, what he meant was he had nothing else he wanted to show her. He had made up his mind about her and her place in his life. When he took a new lover he would disappear from her life, contact her only for support and advice. That was her slot in his life, he came to her to help resolve problems in his life, he could talk to her freely. She accepted the terms of this arrangement unable to stay away because he had a place in her heart.

Armie was upfront with everyone - everyone knew their role in his life. He was kind, generous and went beyond and above for anyone in his close circle of friends, nonetheless once he set the terms of his friendship with you, he did not detract, he was straight down the line. Anyone expecting or wanting change moved on, or was moved on.

Her friends gave up on her and Armie, they knew she should give up on any idea of a relationship with him and told her.  She took their advice and moved to Boston for three years in her mid-twenties, tried other lovers other friends but she returned to New York. Armie was there, she wanted to be close. He never lost touch with her, sending her flowers, hand written notes, tickets to the theatre for her and the latest lover - that is how she knew he had meant what he said. He was not jealous of her male friends and lovers, they were welcome to spend as much time with her as she or they wanted but they had to know he would be a constant presence and if they could not accept this, well it was hard luck.

He was a man of standing, still only thirty two, unmarried, openly into men and women, discreet when needed, out and flamboyant occasionally. He had inherited the family business at thirty, his father having died of cancer at the age of 60. His mother who was 55, was living in an apartment on the Upper East Side. Armie had taken over the family apartment on Park Avenue, not far from his mother’s apartment block.  A four bedroom apartment, with an ensuite or small bathroom sufficient for each room to be served by private facilities, three separate living areas, dining room and public kitchen. There was a small separate area for a live in couple who would have provided housekeeping, driving and cooking services but Armie decided to part with these staff when his father died, Martha & Edward went with his mother – Betsy.  Edward retired, but he carried on with a little driving and some odd jobs, useful when Betsy went to their house in the Hamptons. Armie wanted privacy. Someone came in to do the basics and he ate out or cooked himself when needed. He was capable of looking after himself, that was one of the things his mother had ensured, he was never dependent on another person for anything in his life. If he couldn't do it himself or find someone capable of doing or finding the thing he wanted he went without. He was self-reliant or delegated effectively in all things - love and sex included.

She also taught him how to be discreet, how women wanted to be loved, how to charm his way out of or into what he wanted. Above all she taught him how to love freely and without guilt, taking what he needed from any relationship.  Betsy and his father John had a long and happy marriage and she understood what great men needed to be great, above all she loved and adored John, supporting him through the climb upwards in society and his descent into illness. When his father had died, she made arrangements to move out and set up a new independent life, having no wish to hang onto the old memories in the apartment. They were not all happy years. She had had time to come to terms with all that happened to John, who had died of lung cancer a year after its discovery.  He died in 1926, having built up The Plaza Hotel into one of New York’s finest establishments, the family lived close – he was a workaholic who was forever on site.

Armie walked over, burning his gaze upon Timothy who returned his look by appraising him from head to toe.

“Good evening Mr Hammer, I hope you and your companion are enjoying the gala?”

Timothy was accompanied by a tall caramel coloured black man, both were lithe with curled dark hair. They were obviously together, micro movements in sync, attuned physically turning as one towards him.  Armie had never met Timothy, but of course he knew of him.

“Have you met my wife Beth, I'll introduce you.”

Timothy took Armie over to a crowd of people, an elegant blonde dressed in an off-white shift enhancing the curves of her slim body pulled apart from the crowd extending her hand in greeting.

“Good Evening Mr Hammer, I have heard so much about you, who is your lovely friend?”

Timothy stood back and watched the interaction. He gave nothing back, smiling pleasantly showing interest in the exchange, but coolly and clearly not interested in Armie other than the natural curiosity of meeting someone well known in the New York business world.

Beth took Stella’s arm, and led her off to the crowd, she leaned closely into her, their conversation not for other ears.  Armie did not see her again that evening. He turned back to Timothy.

“Your friend was it, Stella? Will be gone now for a while, I can tell Beth likes her.  I see you don’t have a drink.”

He beckoned a waiter, “What would you like?”

“Bourbon, straight up”

“Well, can I call you Armie? What’s new with you?”  He was relaxed, friendly.

Armie wasn’t sure how to answer.  Timothy came from old money, he was from new money.  There was an etiquette to conversation in polite circles that Armie didn’t always get.  He wasn’t sure if this was a real conversation or small talk.  Timothy spotted his discomfort.

“I hear you have just opened the new annexe at the Plaza, how did it go?”

Armie was grateful, but now he felt the blow that came from not being in the same social class.  He had money but he did not have grace, nobody was looking askance at him but he felt them ready to review their opinion, observing him.  He did not have that natural self-confidence which comes from knowing your money has been washed clean, who your ancestors were, and where your family fitted into society which was deep-seated in Timothy and his friends.

Timothy’s father Buck Chalamet, was Texan oil rich, his great grandfather had come to America from France in 1840, bought land in Texas and ranched, his son discovered oil on their property, and Buck’s father developed a drill which could go further and faster – the company grew exponentially into a mammoth organisation. Timothy was set to inherit the company and was already involved in its management, working in marketing, advertising ‘Double O’ Oil ‘OOO’ as the company was known and portrayed. He was thirty, his mother’s side was Cornish aristocracy, an offshoot of the Boscawen family, his parents black haired with eyes the colour of Autumn, both tall, both very attractive but not conventionally good looking.  Timothy was very lucky appearance wise, he came out looking like his parents combined, so he drew attention where ever he went, the same attention Armie had given him; he knew how to handle that attention – he always had a companion of some sort by his side and he always made it clear he was not interested.  He and his wife were of similar mind, they did not worry about the lovers each had, their love of each other was essential, it was where they drew their respect and self-esteem.  They knew where each other’s loyalties lie and that gave them the freedom to explore whatever love came their way, and they always came back to each other secure in the knowledge that no-one could split them apart, like Armie and Stella, they were companion pieces.

Armie assumed his head of the pack stance, he stood into his six five frame, gazing, and then placing himself within the group using charm and his natural pleasant outlook - he was honest and straightforward, above average looking and had presence.  Without realising, they actively drew him into their circle.  Timothy watched this happen, his attention was now taken, he imperceptibly moved towards Armie.

“Very well, very satisfied with the outcome – still a few things to work out, but on the whole good.  I hear you have hired a new marketing company, how is that going?”

The group settled around him.  They liked him, he had something they could all work with.

 

 

 


	2. Elio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter examines Armie's first lovers. He was a strong minded young man. His parents were tolerant and gave him leeway recognising that to hold him back would only cause greater problems.
> 
> This is fiction, they were not even born yet.

“There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice.”

\- F Scott Fitzgerald

 

Timothy moved closer to Armie.

“This is my good friend Michael.  You may have met him at your Hotel, he has performed there many times, and he now manages ‘The Golden Tones’. 

The Golden Tones were the group of dancers and singers who were currently resident at The Plaza.  The shows ran for six weeks, a dinner time show and a slightly more risqué show at 12, midnight.

“We haven’t met”

Michael held his hand out, Armie shook it. They held their gaze slightly longer than polite, guessing that they would become competitors for Timothy’s attention.  Timothy showed inclination to neither, he started a conversation that both could contribute to easily, the trial of the famous bootlegger Jonesy Armstrong.  Armstrong was not on trial for bootlegging, everybody knew someone who did that - he had killed his rival and the cops put a stop to whatever might follow.  New York had to be kept open and safe – it was the heart of the American economy and visitors had the right to feel to feel they could travel the streets secure in the knowledge they were not going to be caught in gunfire.

Armie did not involve himself with the entertainers, he had a manager for that, if a very famous singer or performer appeared he would take a seat in the ballroom have his dinner, watch the show and leave.  He was not fascinated by celebrity, the only purpose these people served was to entertain his guests, he could take them or leave them.  On the whole he found them self-serving and high maintenance, but this brought back memories of Elio, his first male lover.

At sixteen, Betsy had said to him with John’s blessing – “It’s time”.  Armie knew what she was talking about, six months previously she had caught him masturbating when she taken some towels into one of the bathrooms, he hadn’t heard her because he was so caught up in his coming orgasm.  She slipped out of room, Armie heard the door close – Oh fuck, who was that?  Two months later, he could not help it he became hard, visibly so when her friends came round for cocktails.  He had to leave the room as his dick rose and subsided, blushing as it happened - he could not control it.  The women laughed, he was a good looking boy with manners and was considerate, not noticing the variety of changes visited upon women of his mother’s generation, he treated all women the same regardless of age, gently flirting and paying them attention from a young age.  He was caught kissing a maid in a closet - she was seventeen, he had just turned sixteen, his hands were in her knickers.  Betsy decided to set him up with one of her youngest friends, a divorced thirty two year old.  Tessie was good fun and she knew the ropes, her job was to keep him occupied until he had found himself a girlfriend.  They slept together at the apartment at designated times set up by Betsy and Tessie, once they started Armie kept her busy and the ‘tutoring’ lasted a year.  He liked Tessie and stayed friends with her when he had learnt as much as he could from her, then it was time for pastures new.

His father invited him to join him for a show, Josephine Baker was performing with her group of dancers.  Amongst them was a boy, dark haired, olive skinned – he was Italian.  He got Armie’s attention straight away, his hands starting itching, his breath shortened and his groin felt like it was fire – he was immediately very hard.  His father could see what was happening, he sat back bemused.  His very masculine son had developed a massive crush, insisting on knowing when that group of dancers would be back, taking the initiative and actually booking the table for all of the dates Elio was scheduled to appear.

The boy was about 5’ 10, slim and muscular, Armie had not yet reached his full height standing just over six foot.  He was broad framed – ready for his full height of 6’ 5”, growing into his body, he played football and ran for the sprint team. He was often mistaken for someone who had reached their majority and he took advantage sneaking down to the club in the basement of the hotel – some knew him and let him through without hindrance, those who didn’t let him in anyway, the kid looked old enough.  Over time, he was just allowed in. His father knew where he was he had his spies in all corners of the establishment, if John knew there was going to be trouble or a ‘visit’ someone would discreetly ask Armie to leave. He never argued – just apologised to his guest, it was often Tessie or woman of similar age and temperament, and left.  He never ran with a fast crowd, only with people who knew what was what, that way he avoided trouble on his way to becoming a ‘man of the world’.  However in Elio he met his match, it was his first real love affair - he was 17, Elio was 25.  John decided to talk to Armie about Elio.

“You seem very interested in Josephine’s show, why her?”

“You know very well that I am not interested in Josephine, I am interested in that dancer, Elio”

John roared with laughter.  His son never messed around, he was always straight to the point.

“OK – so go gentle with me, explain why you are interested in him.  Is it because he is a great dancer, I can see that he is excellent, he looks ballet trained, what is it?”

“Look at him. He is the fucking bees knees.  I don’t know why he draws me Papa, I look at him and he makes me feel funny. I don’t know what to do with myself…”  He looked at his father, assessing how much he could say. In a low voice he said:  “I want to fuck him.”

John grew concerned, life would not be easy for Armie if he choose a homosexual lifestyle, it would make running the business very difficult.  Also male to male sex was illegal, all kinds of risks would be run, scandal was definitely on the cards. If he could wait until he was older, he might stand a chance, if he couldn’t wait, there would be problems.  He looked at his son, whose attention was drawn back to the dance floor, engrossed, he did not care who saw him watching Elio - he saw there would be problems.

“Darling, I love you very much and I want to see you happy – tell me what is it you want from Elio, I can see you want him physically.  Have you spoken with him?  Does he know?”

Armie turned unhappy eyes to his father.

“I have sent him notes, a bottle of bourbon, some flowers, I even waited at the stage door  – he just ignores me.  I don’t want to talk to him in case he rejects me to my face.  He knows I want to meet him…he knows you are my father…perhaps he thinks he will be in trouble if he meets me.”  Armie now turned thoughtful realising that he may have inadvertently caused his own downfall.

“Armie, how do you know he would be interested in you?  He might prefer women.”

Armie turned a scornful gaze upon his father. “That was the first thing I found out, he used to have a ‘friend’, he is single now.” His thoughts turned inward, his face masked – but he was not fooling John. “Why don’t you go back to the office, you have work to do – come back in an hour.”

“If I leave you here alone, you will do something stupid, your brain should be in your head not in your dick.  I am going to sit at the bar round at the back, if you want to visit him during the interval go ahead, but I expect to see you back at the table in an hour – it’s now 9 back at 10.00pm sharp – you still have school tomorrow.  Wait a few minutes, I am going to send someone round to talk to him and let him know you have my permission.” 

The show was just coming to an interval, only five minutes to wait. Armie was scared. 

“Don’t worry I shall send Gloria”.  Gloria was one of the longest serving members of staff, she was the front of house manager and trustworthy, she would know exactly how to make Elio feel comfortable and she would find out if Elio was indeed interested in Armie.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Elio invited Armie back for a quick chat.

“Very nice to meet you finally Armie.  You are very interested in our little group, why do you come so often?” 

The other dancers had tactfully already vacated the room.  Armie was glowing, he didn’t know if he could talk coherently because his brains were cloudy, he took a deep breath.

“I wanted to meet you.  I have admired you since I first saw you dance.  You fit so perfectly in the group and your dancing is a treat, I love what you can do with your body.  Where did you train?”

Elio was taken aback, the boy had regained his composure he was trying to have a proper conversation.  This could be interesting - he was too young, but he was intrigued by him.

“Well, when I was growing up we didn’t have much money, my parents came to America, ten years ago.  We lived not far from a theatre and later a cinema, I used to go regularly…”

The twenty minute interval was soon over.

The stage manager called: “Beginners”

“I have to go Armie, I am back here on Saturday night, do you think your father would allow you to be my guest? At the after show show”

“What? After show show?”

“Yes, a group of us get together and sing, play music, dance just for fun – you’ll enjoy it”

Armie was in heaven – this was a date.

“He won’t mind, I am coming”

“Get him to send a note or message please.  You have five minutes to get back to the table.”

 

His feet barely touched the ground.  His father was there at the table, he was on time.

“Papa, he is so nice, he treated me well, like an adult.  Can you send him a note saying I can go to the after show show please, please Papa”

John wavered, these after show shows could be licentious, drinks, heroin and cocaine were freely available.

“Armie, I don’t really want you to go. I’ll tell you why.

Elio is right there will be some music, singing and dancing but there will be people there who will want to take advantage of you.  You are young, much younger than the majority of people who will be there.  Someone might try it on with you – not physically, I know you can handle yourself physically, but they can drop a pill in your drink, or give you a drink that is double strength sweetened with a cordial so you cannot tell.  You might get lured away from the main crowd and in that way some harm may befall you.  It would hurt me very badly if anything was to happen to you.  You are very precious to me and I want to see you grow into a strong healthy man, if I allow you to go on Saturday, I will worry about you until you come home, I will not be able to sleep until I know you are safely in your bed.

Also how do I know that you will behave yourself?  You have already told me you want to fuck him.  You can’t do that on a first date.  I don’t want him taking you into a dressing room to fuck you.  You don’t know what you are doing.  It’s all very well fucking women, but men are different – they can be animals, suppose you allow him to have his way with you and someone wants to watch or join in?  I know these things happen.  What will you do, how are you going to protect yourself?”

Armie fell silent.  Between now and Saturday he had to gain his father’s trust – he was going one way or another, he preferred to go with his father’s blessing.

“Wait a minute Papa, do you have a pen and notepaper?  No.  Gloria, hey do you have some notepaper and a pencil?”

He quickly wrote a note containing all of his father’s fears. He sent it back stage with Gloria.  He had to go, so he asked Gloria to get the response, he would collect it tomorrow, hopefully he would get the right response so he could go on Saturday.

He called the club the next day, Friday.  Elio had not responded.  Armie was despondent. Perhaps, he would send a response on Saturday morning.

 

“If anything bad happens to my son, I will make it my personal business to destroy you, am I clear?”

“Yes Sir”

Elio had gone to see John on Friday.  He explained that he would not normally have anything to do with boys, especially men under the age of 25, his own age.  He told John that was why he had returned all of Armie’s invitations in whatever form they came in.  On meeting, He was charmed by Armie, he was mature and composed – initially nervous, but very soon under control of himself, physically and mentally.  It was risky, but he liked him, he was attracted to him – he felt he had to warn John that yes if it came to it he would have a physical relationship with his son. 

 

“You can go on Saturday, if you misbehave, and I will know – you will never see that boy again.  That includes swearing, bad behaviour, bad manners, drugs, drink, sex or any other thing you can think of to disobey me. Do I make myself clear?”

John was going to post a man on each door, he was taking no chances.

“Yes Papa, thank you.  I won’t do anything to embarrass you.” 

He was fucking lying, but not lying.  He was going to try to fuck Elio.

He enjoyed the after show show very much, but he knew everyone had been forewarned, they were on their best behaviour – there was still drugs and drink but they were kept away from him, people went off into dressing rooms or outside to enjoy them.  Towards the end of party, he managed to drag Elio into a corner.

“Kiss me”

“Your father will fucking kill me”

“He won’t, kiss me.” 

That was the start of it.  They stayed in the dark corner, there was a banquette, they were lying together, softly talking when one of the men on the door came looking for him.

“Get up”

“What?”

“Get the fuck up – ‘it’s half three, time for you to go home.”

“What?”

“The car is outside, you knew your father was sending a car for you at three”

Armie gathered his things, he took Elio’s hand. He whispered.

“Come with me in the car”

They had to stay upright in the car, it was his father’s chauffeur – Alfred would not be taking kindly to any mess or trouble with the old man.  Armie had to behave.

“I am gonna ask him to drop you off a block away, wait ten minutes then walk up to our building, I am going to let you in”

“Are you fucking mad?”

“No, I just want you in my bed – you’re gonna show me how to have sex”

“I think you already know…”

“Yeah, I know how to fuck a woman, either I am going to fuck you or you are going to fuck me and it is going to happen tonight”

“Armie wait.  I like you very much, but this is too soon and, the group will be moving on in a couple of weeks.  I cannot promise to either stay around or keep in touch regularly.  You have to consider this a short-term thing.  Why don’t you wait for someone more suitable, who can love and take care of you, someone who will introduce you properly to the skills of making love.”

“OK…I heard you, but to me this is all the more reason not to waste time, come on…”

Elio gave up.

 

John heard the front door open and close.  Good he was home, he turned over put his arm around his wife and prepared to go to sleep.  They could miss church tomorrow.  Suddenly, he sat up in bed, that was two pairs of feet walking to Armie’s room, there was murmuring and quiet laughter.  That fucking boy would be the death of him, he didn’t even have the sense to sleep in the bedroom furthest away. He would not have heard him go past the fucking door, that fucking dick of his was talking and leading the way.  Now he would have to lie there and wait for Elio to go.

He also gave up and went to sleep.

 

Armie squeezed the door of his bedroom shut.  He knew that once the door was closed they were safe, so long as they did not shout they would not be heard.  He purposely walked Elio to his bedroom, he wanted to make sure that his parents did not come to disturb them, in truth he saw no difference between sleeping with Tessie and sleeping with Elio – it was still only sex.

He stood in the middle of the room.  Elio put his things in a chair, sat on the side of the bed and waited, he worked out that Armie was going to put on a show for him.  He started to take off his clothes and waited for Armie to do the same.

Armie stood on the rug in the space between the bed and armoire – the armoire had a large mirror, Elio would be able to see his backside and as well as his dick.  As he took an item of clothing off he turned, Elio now had seen every part of Armie – a trick he had learnt from Tessie.

He stood in profile, his cock was standing straight out, hard but not rigid enough for sex.  In the mirror Elio could see everything.

“Come over here”

Elio was not used to being commanded normally he took control, but he submitted.

Armie kissed Elio, he explored his lips, dipped his tongue between them. When he had tasted his mouth, he extended his tongue going into a deep kiss. Elio responded, breathing and groaning into his mouth. Armie’s lips were soft he sucked them pressing his mouth open again, kissing beyond exploration into sexual knowledge.  

He turned Armie.

Kissed his nape licked behind his ear took the lobe sucked it pressed his open mouth against his neck and then rained kisses across his shoulders caressed his ass explored the curve the dips placed his hands between his legs caressed his inner thighs stroked his balls brought his hands round his waist pressed the soft flesh of his stomach. His list complete.

“I want you to hold my cock”

Elio pressed his dick against Armie’s ass, pressed it into his crevice, it was hard and standing up right – it fit.  He spat on his hand and stretched it round, he took a firm grasp of Armie’s cock which had started leaking pre-come.  Elio used an up and down motion rubbing himself against Armie, he moved away, let his dick fall slightly and pressed it against Armie’s ass so that he got an initial impression of being breached, he let the dick slide downwards again pressing against Armie’s hole, finally he let his dick slide vertically sliding slowly against Armie’s hole.

Armie was moaning slowly: “fuck, oh yeah…roll that motherfucker…fuck…”

Elio let go of Armie’s dick, and replaced his with Armie’s hand. 

“I am going to kiss your asshole…”

“OK…Really?…OK…I’ll try it..”

Elio asked Armie to lean against the armoire so he could continue watching what Elio was doing to him.  Elio spread his ass, took in Armie’s fresh virginal smell, that virginal pink flesh.  His own dick hardened, Armie smelt like musk and grass. His tongue licked that pink flesh the taste perfumed his mouth, rolling his tongue he flicked Armie’s hole with the tip, then pushed inwards.  Armie was nearly crying, he did not know that sex could feel like this, this felt more sensuous than being with a woman, he was at home in his body, it felt right.  Elio continued to lick and suck.

“I am going to put a finger inside you”.

Armie grunted. “Stop with the commentary – just do it”

Elio licked his finger, he stroked Armie’s perineum, then slid the finger into his hole pressing downwards he circled and caressed Armie’s prostrate - unused to this Armie came.  He was mumbling.

“Fuck…Sorry…fuck…ahh…fuck…that was so good…give me some time…”

Twenty minutes later, after some fingering, canoodling and kissing, Elio had stroked another hard on out of Armie.

“I am going to fuck you now”

“…I want you to fuck me daddy”

Elio pushed the head of his dick into Armie; it was painful – he couldn’t lie, but as he relaxed the pain subsided into something else, the sensation was overwhelming. Elio pushed on and started to fuck Armie with hard fast strokes.  Armie took hold of himself and learnt by stroking in time with Elio’s thrusts, he was able to build intensity in his ass, at the bottom of his dick and his prostrate, using muscles that he did not he had, he was verbalising, moaning and groaning loudly.  Elio covered his mouth.  That made it fucking worse.

“I’m coming…stop…wait…oh fuck…I’m coming…don’t stop…don’t stop…” 

He was unable to work out where the orgasm came from, it rolled out from muscles at the base of his spine, across his hole and finally out of his dick. He did not know where he was, he was stunned. He carried on squeezing Elio’s dick, wanting to hold him inside for ever, he felt righteously full.  Elio pulled almost all the way out leaving the dome just inside the sphincter, rubbing himself roughly and taking advantage of the spasms still rocking through Armie to his own orgasm.

 

“Did I make a lot of noise?”

“Nothing extraordinary”

“Thank you” He kissed Elio softly on his mouth.  “Thank you” He was overcome, a tear rolled down his cheek.  Elio rolled him so Armie’s back was against his chest, wrapped him in his arms pressed him close.

“Come on baby, get some sleep”

 

By the time they came down for breakfast John had decided to go to church – he wasn’t sure how to react around the two boys. Armie couldn’t even sit down properly, his ass was burning, a pleasant memory of the night.  Betsy fussed around him after Elio left.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

“Mom, I had the best time of my life”

“Your father is not happy with you.  Why did you bring him back?”

Armie was honest.  “I wanted to fuck him, and it was better that it happened here than at the hotel”

“Armie, you are still at school.  This boy is going away in a couple of weeks.  How wise was it to sleep with him?”

“It was not wise, but I wanted him Mommy.  I really don’t see the difference between him and Tessie.  What is the difference?  I like him so much”

“Armie, you know the answer to that.  You are putting him at risk as well as yourself.  People will not be kind if it is known that you had sex with him”

Armie wanted to get up and leave the breakfast table, because it was his mother he held his counsel and kept his mouth shut.  As he pursed his lips a wicked thought came in his head.  He wanted Elio to suck him, fuck that would be hot.  A devilish smile crossed his face, Tessie had taught him how to use his mouth on a woman, she did not always reciprocate fully, when she did he had enjoyed it – now he wanted Elio to do it to him.  He stopped listening to his mother.

“Darling did you hear what I said?”

“No”


	3. The Hamptons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter Armie decides he needs some time away from every thing. He takes a break at this mother's house in The Hamptons. He has decided to actively pursue Timothy.
> 
> The Hamptons was just as popular then as it is now, the rich and not so rich flocked there during holiday periods. There were some very large houses and others were normal sized. Betsy's house was only five bedrooms, some were in excess of 20 bedrooms, virtually castles.
> 
> This is fiction, they were not even born when this is set.

…There's a saying old, says that love is blind  
Still we're often told, seek and ye shall find  
So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind…

  * Someone to Watch Over me, Ira & George Gershwin



 

Armie followed Timothy around all the key New York events: the dinner to celebrate Greta Garbo’s debut in silent movie ‘Torrents’  where he was fortunate to meet the star herself; he checked when Timothy was going to Al Capone’s appearance at court ‘accidently’ running into him outside the courthouse, they went for lunch; went to the opening of ‘Crystal Nights’ a blind pig or speakeasy spending the evening into early morning sat beside him on Timothy’s table; stood together in the same airfield when Charles Lindberg took off and attended a concert by Paul Robeson at Timothy’s invitation.  He could spend time with him, be in the same company, issue his own invites including inviting him to the ballroom to watch a variety of stars but made no progress in his pursuit, and he was pursuing him.  Timothy remained disinterested, charming, polite, and attached to Michael and Beth.  The year went round and Summer came, Armie decamped to The Hamptons for four weeks – he felt he needed a break from everyone and everything, Timothy included.  He decided to spend this time with his mother.  He didn’t invite Stella, this was going to be proper down time.

“Why isn’t Stella coming?  She always comes for a few days – I shall miss her.” 

His mother felt she had to get to the bottom of Armie’s seclusion.  Armie knew she would ask questions. 

“What happened to that nice boy that you were spending time with?  What was his name – Timothy…that’s it.  He’s from a good family. Why haven’t you invited him?  Wait, don’t they have a house in the Hamptons somewhere?”

“Mother, I don’t have anything to tell you.  I am just taking a break – sometimes it is just nice to get away from everyone, re-charge, take some time out”

He was lying to himself when he said it.  He had fallen into something with Timothy, something that could be described thus:  not the wildness of feeling he had in his youth for Elio, this was in your bones I want to spend a lot of time with you, I want to be by your side whenever you need me, I’ll support you through thick and thin, no judgement whatever – it was the I just want to be with you certain unwavering kind of love that clung like a magnet.

Betsy wasn’t fooled.  She had watched her son undertake a variety of relationships, some with women and some with men and never seen him in love; he had been obsessed, loving, sexually enthralled but never in love.  It had hit him relatively late he was over thirty and never come close.  Oh, she knew about Stella and thought Stella would be the best person for him – a good wife, Stella would forgive him anything and was tolerant, they could work something out or come to an arrangement about his male lovers, that was non-negotiable – that side of Armie had to be fed.  Above all Stella loved him, still loved him despite the way he treated her.  Armie could not lie nor live a lie, he did not love Stella romantically, he had a deep love for her which was based on friendship and devotion, if they ever married it would be for companionship.

Something told her that Timothy was the subject of his love, she’d done a little investigation amongst her friends and knew that Timothy was similar to her son except he was married and settled with his male lover, he had worked out what he needed and worked out how to make it work. His relationship with Michael was an open secret, Michael would appear at the same events or be associated with Timothy as his patron.  Timothy supported the arts and sponsored performances where Michael was involved, he attended concerts and shows with prominent black singers and dancers and he brought Michael along to these activities.  Sometimes Beth came and sometimes she didn’t, there were no rumours about Beth, but Betsy suspected that somewhere along the line there was a quid pro quo and a lover or two on her side of the relationship.  She decided to do something about it.  She would open the gardens of their house and hold a charity picnic.  She wanted to see how they interacted, try to work out what was really going on.

Armie was not pleased.

“I have come down here for some peace and quiet and you are opening the gardens, now I am going to have to put up with all the arranging and disruption.  I might go back to town.  Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He knew once her mind was made up she would not ask him, she would do what she thought right, after all it was technically her house, he did not inherit it on his father’s death.  His father had not left him the apartment it was Betsy who had inherited all their property and Betsy who had signed over the Park Lane Apartment in New York and the house in Fisher Island, Florida to Armie.  The house in the Hamptons was not large, only five bedrooms on the Orchard Estate, near Longhouse Reserve – it was close to some woods, very peaceful, Betsy would not give that up.

The Chalamets were staying on the Wyckoff estate – that house had 58 bedrooms. So far only Timothy had arrived, Michael was on tour and Beth was visiting family elsewhere on Long Island, she would be joining Timothy after the picnic – Betsy had done well.

“Perhaps I’ll go to Florida for a week, no one will bother me there”

“It’ll be too hot for you, if you can’t take the heat in New York, how will you manage in Florida?”

He gave her a dirty look and went up to his bedroom to lie down, this was too much.

 

Betsy left Armie to his own devices, he spent a lot of time on his own.  She busied herself with the picnic, it came around quickly.  She invited 30 people, pairing them up surreptitiously.  She asked ten people to bring a picnic basket, and the others were to bid on behalf of the Longhouse Bird Sanctuary.  She had prepared food for those who were not successful or who just wanted a day out.

Bidding started cautiously, those who she thought would pair up did, leaving Timothy and another Hamptons’ singleton who was also staying with friends sans partner.  Armie came out of the kitchen, as she thought he would.  When Timothy’s basket was put up – he blew everyone out and bid $10,000, fuck it go big or go home.  His mother was mock annoyed –

“Armie, that is ridiculous, put the basket back and let everyone have a chance.”  He ignored her picked up the basket and took Timothy by the arm. 

“Bye, see you later.”   Everyone laughed.

 

“You didn’t need to be so obvious”

Armie chuckled. 

“Just making sure, and if you didn’t expect this outcome, you shouldn’t have come.”

“I am not going to sleep with you”

“I never asked you and I am not going to ask you…today”

“I already have two lovers, I don’t need or want a third”

“I already told you…I am not going to sleep with you…at least not today”

Armie took Timothy into the woods, he also had a large picnic rug, they found a quiet grassy spot with a couple of logs that they could use either to rest on or as a makeshift table.  Armie threw the rug down, placed the basket on top of the logs and lay down, on his back face up, flat out on the ground, closed his eyes, arms above or on his head.  They could hear the hum of the wood, gentle wild life noises, a few quiet voices some distance away – nobody was close.

“Get down here, I promise not to touch you”

Timothy joined him cautiously.

“Why did you come if you didn’t want to be in my company?  You knew that if you came I would bid for your basket. Come on man.

And my mother is an interfering so and so, I knew what she was up, she loves me and she wants to see me happy, she knows I care about you.  She is just trying to find out what is going on.

I am not going to lie Timothy, I really want to spend some time with you – I want to get to know you properly, away from the usual crowd.”

Timothy was momentarily silent.  Armie waited, if he was getting what he wanted he could wait indefinitely.

“Armie…oh…never mind…let’s just enjoy what we have today.” He lay down alongside Armie.

“Where did you go to school?” 

Armie settled, he remembered his first meeting with Elio, a similar feeling, butterflies in his stomach – deep breath, treat as normal conversation, he responded:

“The Browning School. Meant I was in New York, I was taken to school in my father’s car, it was a source of embarrassment, and he always had the oldest car.  He wouldn’t buy a new one until the old one stopped working – very strong work ethic, disliked waste – but he loved me and he made it evident he did.  I was very lucky with my parents.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah, I was one of the biggest boys there – nobody was going to give me any trouble”

“So you got into fights?”

“No, I am also very good at talking my way out of bad situations, ask my mother.  Where did you go?”

“I went to Collegiate School, we were at rival schools”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“No, unlike you I was not a confident child, it took me several years to work out how to behave appropriately – I was used to getting my own way at home and didn’t understand that that wasn’t how it worked in the outside world.  I had a very painful time between 7 and 10…when I was 13, my looks came in and it was like the sun shone on me – it was a different kind of painful.”

“What, you didn’t like the attention?  Boys and girls?”

“Exactly – more like men and girls, I would be followed on the street.  In the end I had to be picked up and dropped off.  I couldn’t travel by myself until I was sixteen going on seventeen.  Since I left High School, I have protected myself with a partner of one kind or another – sometimes a fake partner. Male if a man, male if a woman…ha…ha…ha” He laughed ruefully.

Timothy rose on one elbow – “Here’s a picture of me at 13, my mom had it done – you know she has passed away, right?  I keep this locket close.”

In an early gold locket probably 18th century an obvious family heirloom, Armie saw a miniature of a cherubic boy who resembled something out of an Italian masterpiece, it took his breath away.

“Wow, you really were the Butterfly’s boots”

“What?”

“Handsome…you were beautiful”

“I was a child it wasn’t appropriate for men to come up to me.” He paused. “I want to tell you about Beth, she is very important to me.”

Armie noted he did not say he loved her.  His Stella.

“I have known Beth since I was five, she is my soulmate physically and mentally – we married when I was 21, and in the year we married I also took my first male lover - a coup de foudre, I met him on the street, eyes across the sidewalk– he was 22, rangy, like liquid chocolate, I melted when I saw him, my body went to pieces, brown eyes dark hair parchment skin, so soft...”

An inward breath – a look passed across his face – His Elio, not forgotten.  “When did you first sleep with a man?”

“I took my first lover when I was 16, my mother set me up with one of her a younger girlfriends…I was sexually precocious – easily aroused and wanting to fuck by the time I was 16, I wasn’t going to wait, so it was that or get some girl pregnant.  I met Elio at 17, he was a dancer with a cabaret group…25…a short very hot affair – I couldn’t keep my hands off him, nor he me…

Timothy, I have never been in love until I met you…never wanted to spend time with anyone as much as I want to with you…”

His words spilled out.

Timothy held his gaze, Armie knew that something significant was coming.

“Armie…I am not in love with you nor do I love you.  I like you very much and I find you attractive.  But I cannot give you what you want.  You have been very honest with me, I have to be honest with you…I have to say you are making things very difficult for me – I can’t…”

An uneasy peace settled on them both.  Timothy’s words hung in space.

Armie didn’t know if he was devastated or not, he had Timothy to himself and he didn’t know when or if this would ever happen again – best be quiet and make the most of it, he wouldn’t push him any further.  He lay back, eyes closed, heart heavy.

A shadow passed over his face, he opened his eyes to find Timothy over him – looking at his mouth.  He put his hand to Timothy’s cheek, brushed the soft skin, used his fingers to frame his face to begin to know how to love him.  Timothy bent down and kissed him gently, Armie let him, he realised that he should let him take control.  Thought of Elio’s first kiss came back to him…he relaxed as Timothy caressed his lip with his finger, then brought his mouth down again, this time his tongue pressed the inner flesh of Armie’s lower lip, brushed over his teeth and pressed into his mouth seeking his tongue, tasting him, sucking on him like he was experiencing him, taking something from him.  Timothy took his upper lip into his mouth, sucked this flesh then formed a perfect seal with his mouth by slightly tipping his head to the side forcing Armie’s mouth to open wider and pushed his tongue deep into his mouth, a lover’s kiss.  It was all Armie could do to stay calm not roll him over and press him into the ground. He brought his arm around Timothy’s shoulders, which woke him out of his reverie.

“Sorry…”

Armie replied, “Don’t be, I enjoyed that very much”

“…I really can’t do this”

Timothy got up and left.

The picnic basket remained untouched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- $10,000 is worth $150,000 in 2017  
> \- Many of the houses built at the turn of the century were subsequently torn down in the crash and later in the 1930s and 1940s. The landscape of the The Hamptons is also very different, it is more 'manicured' less scrubby.


	4. The Hamptons (Continued)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.
> 
> This is fiction, do not @ me.

“…But what is the heart, madame? It's worth less than people think. it's quite accommodating, it accepts anything. You give it whatever you have, it's not very particular. But the body... Ha! That's something else again! It has a cultivated taste, as they say, it knows what it wants. A heart doesn't choose, and one always ends up by loving…”

  * Colette



 

 

A week later…

“Good afternoon Armie, how very nice to see you, where’s Stella?”

“She’s just over there, ah…actually she’s with Beth, they have some catching up to do…”

“It’s a while since they spoke…I hope you are well. How is your mother, oh I see her – Hello Betsy…”

 

Armie stayed rooted to the rug, no point in following Timothy to the house – his muscles, thought differently, they moved before his brain could react, no thought just action, he jumped up and ran towards him, Timothy had nearly reached the lawn, just about to emerge from the woody glade. Armie slowed his pace walked up to Timothy and grabbed his arm pulling him back onto a path which lead round to the pantry, a side entrance only used by those familiar with the house.  There were still people on the lawn and porch, Armie hoped they had not seen him grab hold of Timothy. He was desperate.

“Timothy, please…don’t leave me like this…let’s talk…we can go inside and just talk…please”

“Except it won’t just be talking, will it Armie?”  Timothy removed his hand.  “I am going to apologise for leaving early, please don’t stop me”

Armie stood there and tears burst from his eyes.  It was too much.  He had never felt this way about anyone and he was on the verge of being torn apart.  Timothy started to walk away from him back towards the porch, he halted, paused, hesitation written onto his body, turned back and took Armie’s hand leading him into the house, he wasn’t looking at him – he too was overcome by emotion.

“Where is your bedroom?”

Armie, wiped his knuckles into his eyes, he stared into Timothy’s eyes not believing what he saw, Timothy’s eyes were shaded black, very little of the hazel iris remained.

“I want you too Armie, that is what I am afraid of…”

 

They silently went up to Armie’s room, maintaining contact by holding hands – it overlooked the lawn…Armie closed the window, then locked the door, he had the wherewithal to say:

“Don’t speak…don’t say anything, let’s just be…” 

Armie had a king sized bed, two wardrobes, a set of drawers, and a couple of chairs completed the furniture in the room. Clothes were strewn all around the room on the floor and on the chairs – his mother refused to clean until the clothes were hung up or put away.  It meant that she did not go in his room, nor allow staff in.  They were safe.

Timothy pushed Army onto the bed, followed him down.

“Take it all off…I want to see all of you…let me see you…your skin…fuck” 

He too had given in to his desire.

Timothy licked his nipple, aroused, his dick was already weeping, Armie wanted to apologise.  He was like the sixteen year who first fucked Tessie.

Timothy took him in hand, stroked him until he was hard, glancing at him to assess the effect, then licking the pre-come away - he nestled his tongue around the tip of the dick. Timothy put as much cock as was possible in his mouth without throat fucking him, Armie was gasping with surprise and want.  Timothy’s tongue was making swathes around the shaft, softly brushing skin, to Armie it felt like Timmy was brushing velvet the wrong way, pure sensation.  He knew that he had to hold on to his composure, laid back on the bed, fuck - he wanted to watch his cock disappear into Timothy’s mouth.  He wanted to feel Timothy’s hair as his head bobbed around his cock.  He raised himself onto his elbows.

“Is this alright? Do you like this?”

“Yes…”

Armie felt like his breath was trapped, he could hardly talk.  He was getting more than what he wanted, a thought crossed his mind – was it too good to be true?  What if Timothy was playing with him?  Now was not the time for doubt, he would take whatever Timothy gave him, enjoy the experience.

Timothy sucked him very close to an orgasm, took his mouth off him and got undressed.  He took his time, watching Armie as he undressed, his eyes raking Armie’s body.

“Don’t touch yourself”

Armie’s dick subsided. He badly wanted to touch and pull it. The feeling associated with orgasm was fading away, his dick lay across his groin.

Timothy came back to the bed, he lay across Armie’s body pressing his leg between Armie’s, he pressed the soft flesh of his groin against Armie’s dick and started rolling his body, and friction edged him.  This was the first time that Armie had ever experienced this, sex and emotion closely connected, tranquil, breathing softly, sounds rising from his throat.  As Timothy kissed him, they wrapped their arms around each other, Timothy wriggled himself down between Armie’s legs, Armie brought his knees up so that their bodies were drawn even closer together – cock to cock.  Kissing recommenced, small dry kisses, longer wet kisses – Timothy kissed his neck, slithered down and traced the outline of his chest with his mouth, sucked both nipples his hands alternating pinching and pulling. It verged on painful, when he stopped Armie’s nipples were burning, it felt delightful, Timothy was his master, dominant, his Daddy…

Armie tried to reciprocate, he placed his hands on Timothy’s chest, caressing his nearly hairless body, a body out of a Botticelli painting, his skin was the colour of rich milk, blue veins on the inside of his thighs, veins snaking around his dick, skin the texture of silk.  Armie wanted to feast on him, drink him, suck an orgasm out of that petal pink dick.

“No, this is something I want to give you…you are such a big boy…such a big juicy boy…”

He pulled Armie off so his dick lengthened to its impressive maximum, the skin on Armie’s dick was taut and his balls tight…Armie wanted to spill…Timothy placed a hand at the base of his cock between ball and shaft, softly squeezing, mini strokes downwards.  This made Armie tremble, there was pressure on his prostrate, a signal to detumescent, his body wasn’t sure whether to ejaculate or hold on.   It was both heaven and hell.

“…I am your Daddy today…”

He started stroking Armie again, turning his hand gently to create friction, he put his thumb on top. He got him close again, rose up his body maintaining body contact, started kissing him, mouth-fucking kisses, his hand turning on Armie’s dick at the same pace.  Armie felt hollowed out, his body a mass of sensation, he gave in, physically quivering, hovering on a sexual precipice.  He realised that Timothy was going to make him wait, so long as he completely relaxed he would stay on a threshold and not fall over into orgasm.

“I want you to fuck me baby…”

“Oh my god…yes please…”

“Get up…

Timothy’s perfect ass was presented to him, Armie was overcome again.  Standing, he took his thumb and circled Timothy’s hole, worshiped it by kissing and licking it. He watched Timothy’s ass grow soft, relaxed, his hole ready to accept cock. He spat on his hand. Using a mixture of pre-come and spit, he lubricated his dick and slid it into Timothy’s ass, a slight gasp, soft words:

“Give it all to me baby”

Placing his hands on Timothy’s hips, he rhythmically experienced Timothy’s body, giving him the full benefit of his dick, pausing when his balls touched his ass.  He held his breath, it felt so fucking good. Timothy begin verbalising what he wanted.  That was hot as fuck.

“I want to come…oh baby…fuck…I’m going to stroke myself baby…I want to sit on…yeah…that’s it…we are going to come together…oh fuck…”

Timothy managed it such that they did come together, his whole body squeezed the orgasm out of Armie.  Armie was in tears again.

They showered afterwards and went to bed, it was only four, they slept through til night.

 

Betsy thought she would investigate, it was after nine – they must be hungry, as she approached she could hear them murmuring, she smiled to herself, the picnic had worked.  She turned back walked downstairs, ate some leftover chicken, drank another glass of wine and went to the bed.

 

“Can I get you something to eat? What do you want?”

“I’ll just have some of the lemonade your Mom made, and some chicken, not too much, I don’t want to feel too full – we could go again if you want…”

Armie was delirious, the thing he most wanted had just happened and he was being promised more.

Timothy went back to the Wyckoff Estate on the day that Beth was due to arrive, the picnic had taken place on Friday, Beth was due to return on Monday.  He wouldn’t say when he would next be able to spend time with Armie.

“Why can’t you tell me?  You know where you need to be for the next few weeks.  I know you have to be back in Manhattan to finalise the autumn marketing campaign soon but you can stay here at least two weeks.  Don’t go back next week.”

Armie was impatient and showed it.

“Armie, listen.  I cannot juggle three of you – and I am not going to promise and then have to take it back.  Give me some time to work out what I actually want longer term.  Don’t force me into making a decision that might not be right.  Believe me, I am beyond fond of you, I want to spend time with you - we have something, let’s find out what it is, we just need some time.

There is space in my life for you here…now.  For the present that will have to be enough.”

 

Timothy invited Armie and his mom over for luncheon the following Sunday, Armie had been on edge and tetchy, the invite calmed his nerves - the luncheon was nearly a week after he last saw Armie.

“Darling, you realise that you are not going to get to share Timothy in the way that you think you deserve?”

Why was his mother so fucking cute?

“Mom, don’t talk sense to me – I am not fucking interested.  I know what I want - I want him and I want to be with him”

“He does not have time in his life for you - you are effectively his piece on the side, he can’t go public with you.

That was like a cold shower, why did his mother give with one hand and take with the other?

“Why?  Why can’t you let me have a moment of happiness?”

“You don’t think you’re the only other person he fucks, do you?

I am preparing you for when you go running after his ass, which is currently like buried treasure - glistening and enticing, and he takes you to some out of the way apartment where he takes his tricks.  Fucks you and sends you home in a taxi cab.”

Shit.  That was harsh.

His mother was right, she knew he would go running after that motherfucking ass, Timothy had fucking broken him – he remembered the quote by Colette:

“…But what is the heart, madame? It's worth less than people think. it's quite accommodating, it accepts anything. You give it whatever you have, it's not very particular. But the body... Ha! That's something else again! It has a cultivated taste, as they say, it knows what it wants. A heart doesn't choose, and one always ends up by loving…”

 

He didn’t even get five minutes with Timothy at the luncheon. It flew by in a blur of longing and anxiety.  Eventually, long after food had been served, Timothy came across to their table like a parent at a wedding, and stood behind Armie’s chair.  In front of everyone he caressed and massaged Armie’s shoulders, it looked friendly, it wasn’t.  Armie’s dick was hard, the outline evident in his lap - he made sure Timothy could see it.  Timothy blew softly on his neck, pressed his shoulders and moved off.

 

Armie did invite Stella for few days. She wasn’t fooled, she knew Armie had invited her for a reason - she was going to be his cover for some affair, a secret lover, someone he couldn’t publically share. When she got there she realised it was Timothy.  Armie was discreet, but in the context it was easy to work out who the subject was - and this felt different, with some pain she realised Armie was in love.  The luncheon marked a turning point for her, she would no longer wait for him, it was humiliating, sitting there watching Armie being turned on by Timothy, seeking Timothy’s attention with his eyes, flushed with happiness under his hands. Timothy merely stood behind him and his dick got hard, that hurt because she could not and would never have the same effect on him.

 

Betsy saw it all – the caressing, the effect, Stella’s discomfort, she rued her role in bringing them together.  It was time for her to play canasta and gossip about him to her friends. She couldn’t resolve this, it was a fucking mess.  Let him sort it out as best he could, her son was in for a difficult time, it was time he managed his affairs himself.


	5. War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heart wants what it wants, sometimes to great cost.
> 
> This is fiction, don't @ me, they were not even born.

I can't sleep without knowing there's hope. Half the night I waste in sighs. In a wakeful doze I sorrow. For the hands, for the lips... the eyes. For the meeting of tomorrow.  
\- Alfred Lord Tennyson

 

"I'm going to the bathroom" 

He had made a decision and he spoke as Timothy moved off. As he rose he held his dick through his pocket, using the palm of his hand to keep it hard, and hidden. 

Timothy's eyes followed him, he was turned on.

"I'm just going to remind Terrence to put some beer and lemonade on ice, I think some of our guests would enjoy a cool drink later" 

Beth barely glanced round, she was engrossed in conversation. Betsy continued to watch proceedings, she had a fair idea what was going to happen - Armie's dick was taking charge.

 

Armie left the bathroom door open. Timothy barely had time to shut it, no time to lock it.

"Bend over, you fucker" 

He took hold of Timothy’s hair.

Armie was going to mark him too.

He sucked bruises on the back of his neck, and on the soft flesh of his inner thigh, held onto Timothy's cock to heighten sensation, biting and bruising him further. 

There would be no mistake, they were marks of sex, marks of possession - Timothy submitted. He was highly aroused and stimulated by fear because Armie was in full possession of him, he manhandled Timothy sufficient to take what he wanted, without force but clearly in charge. He was irresistible and he would not take no for an answer. Timothy had never been in this position before. He was a tall man touching six foot, fit, and slim. Armie was six five in his socks, his body softer than those years in college but still muscular, trim, hair in all the places you would want to feel and touch. It felt like he towered over Timothy. Timothy felt overpowered, owned, it was unnerving and highly arousing. 

Armie kissed Timothy roughly to ensure there was razor burn, put his mark on him, split his ass and fucked him hard and dirty.

Timothy mewled softly, coming in a rush unable to help himself, body pulsing with the strength of the orgasm. Armie didn’t give a fuck if Timothy came or not, so long as he himself achieved satisfaction.

When he finished Armie wiped himself with toilet tissue, threw it on the ground, still somewhat erect he couldn't go back to the table. There was semen marks on his trousers, he didn’t care, he left the bathroom called for his car and went back to Longhouse, he’d send the car back for the women. He left Timothy undone and panting in the bathroom, still coming down from his orgasm - he would have sort out his own fucking mess.

Armie had decided on a war of attrition.

If Timothy would not come to him freely, he was going to fight for him. Timothy was encumbranced by his relationships with Beth and Michael, Armie understood him. Timothy had never had to fight for anything and he did not have the ruthless streak needed to separate from them, a streak derived from pure selfish want. Timothy had never experienced want, so he did not understand Armie's need for him. 

Armie moved in a business world where if you stood still someone would take earth from under your feet and leave you in a fucking hole. So if you wanted something badly enough you fought for it. He was going to get Timothy regardless of the fucking cost.


	6. War - Rogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to deal with the aftermath of everything that has gone before?
> 
> Armie had a real purpose for his behaviour. I don't think Timothy was shocked by the sex, he was taken aback by what it might mean, and he does not have full realisation yet.
> 
> This chapter gives some background on Timothy and Armie, and also the world they live in. Responsibilities come to the fore.
> 
> This is fiction - please don't @ me, they were not even born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again some of the timelines may have messed around with, I want to give a flavour of the things that happened in 1920s and early 1930 - I know the Wall Street Crash is coming. We are roughly in 1928.

The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.

\- Alfred Lord Tennyson

 

After the luncheon Timothy couldn’t get undressed in front of Beth for three weeks.  The bruises took over two weeks to heal and the bites even longer to go past their redness.  He had to pretend that he was suffering insomnia and sleep in a separate room, luckily this was not unknown in the period.  Husbands would quite often have different sleeping arrangements than their wives – a man might come in late and not want to disrupt his wife’s sleep, beauty regime or even amongst families descended from upper class European families, just follow the custom of maintaining separate sleeping arrangements.

Armie had bitten him behind his balls just under his buttock, then he had sucked a crescent around the bite mark, licking up into his ass - he felt it all times, even now he could remember the rush of the orgasm.  He might get away with hiding this area, but the bruise on his neck had to be covered at all times, it did not go unnoticed.

Dressing for the De Lamars Summer ball, he had needed help to fix his white bow tie, Beth walked around him straightening his collar.

“What’s this mark?”

Why hadn’t he thought about his response?

“What mark?”

“This one.”

It was still a little tender, beginning to turn yellow before it turned dark again.  Fuck Armie.

“I don’t know”

“If your lovers are going to leave marks on you, ask them to be more careful”

 

Timothy doesn't see Michael for several weeks, Michael was still on tour and he needed time for the bruising to go down.  The bite under his balls might take even more time, it was in an intimate place – a place where only a lover had the right to be.

 

Armie had come home, showered and was skulking in the garden. He was lying about the place looking dissatisfied. He felt like he could fuck him again. Right now.  He was still hard.

 

After the luncheon, Stella returned to the house and had a quiet cry in her bedroom.

Betsy had left her to cry on her own.  She understood that Stella had now seen that Armie would never be romantically involved with her.  Stella finally understood Armie’s words from many years ago; he had been as honest with her then as he was now.  Once Summer had passed, she would move back to Boston, she had family and friends there, it was time to re-group, reclaim herself from that person whose heart always walked towards Armie. 

Armie was generous, she only had to ask and he would help - she was not wealthy at least not in the same realm as him, he would help with a job or contacts, there was always someone who needed help with a project or event.  No matter what she would always love him, she just had to learn how to put those feelings to one side for a little while, and draw the curtain so she could let others into her heart.

 

Armie didn't see Timothy again until the day before he left the city.. He'd been invited to the Summer Ball held by the De Lamars in the garden of their mansion.  It would be the final event of the summer before people had to return to Manhattan for business, and oncoming Autumn.  A ticket to the De Lamars ball was as good as a trip to the Riviera.

This was a highly anticipated social event, some even travelled down from Manhattan to attend.  Armie enjoyed the spectacle, the process of preparing, the need to get into formal evening dress. He would be on his best behaviour, no fucking around.  A tall well-formed man, he would make an impact on entry, and with Stella on his arm they would be in demand as a couple, they would be wanted. Armie persuaded Stella to accompany him on a companion basis, she was his ‘walker’, trying to stay on good terms until her departure.

The De Lamars were old money they could trace their lineage back to the 1600s, they were not a founding family, their family had Dutch ancestry and New York was founded by the Dutch, they understood the tempo of the city.  They came to America with experience of the early days of trade with the English in Africa, which they converted to a vast wealth by developing gold and mineral mining properties in Colorado.  The family had their roots in Amsterdam and had that easy confidence of knowing themselves to be superior without ever having to prove it. Armie knew them because he belonged to the same club as Joseph. No women were allowed, The Metropolitan Club was a gentleman's club on old lines, formal but not exclusively old money. One had to be nominated, vetted as suitable – no element of scandal or wrong doing was tolerated, and only then was the submission voted on – one could not apply, a member had to propose membership.  The member proposing could lose standing if the anything held up the application. Social standing and more importantly who one knew was the key, it was essentially knowing who had kudos and how to impress and get on with the right people, Armie was capable of kissing ass socially and politically when it served his purpose.

In the last year Armie made good use of his relationship with Timothy. They didn't belong to the same clubs, Timothy joined the Lotos Club which was a literary club with members who numbered the famous including J. Walter Thompson founder of an advertising agency and later Dwight Eisenhower a future president, everybody at this level of wealth ran in the same social circles, Armie made a couple of good contacts, got in with a group of old-moneyed businessmen and thence into the Metropolitan Club, it was a club which prided itself on accepting men of good character and good standing, your money or family did not need to matter. 

Timothy was also a member of the Knickerbocker Club - Armie had no chance of getting into that club, not even as a guest. He was however able to attend dinners where he met these members, he made a good impression, they could be snooty, but they were happy to be seen with him at public dinners.  He had also started to sponsor a pipeline for water to serve the poor and destitute in Las Vegas, which brought him good social credit – charitable acts and benevolence to less favoured members of society, was an indicator of true wealth. He was canny and spotted that Las Vegas was ripe for development, he tied the two things together.  He also invested in the new railways coming to the same area, he wanted to diversify socially and in business.  He did not want to be dependent on Timothy.

Timothy had not been standing still either.  He built the first theatre, in New York, open to black and white artistes off Broadway.  He was deeply involved and used Michael's expertise to have a modern theatre designed and built to meet the needs of artistes and audience. It was small only 500 seats, the kind of artistes he wanted to attract were interested in delivering an intimate theatre experience, he wanted the audience to see the eyes of the performers, staging shows in the round as well as in traditional proscenium style. It truly was the first of its kind.  He called it the Signature Theatre, their first production was a workshop of ‘Porgy and Bess’ by the Gershwins, he was very proud to have hosted them.

He was busy, and did not need the confusion that a relationship with Armie would bring. He was married, had an active social life, had a not so secret homosexual lover, participated in cultural and creative events, and a serious job in the family business, a real post not a quasi-post for a shiftless son, he was Columbia Business School alumni, great things were expected – the plan was for him to work in all key departments before moving on to chair the company, replacing his father in a few years, so he could retire. He would make an excellent Chairman because he was able to discern and communicate the important elements of an issue and negotiate to achieve a successful outcome.  His lack of ruthlessness meant that he was widely liked and respected – he was only interested in serving the company not himself.  He was capable of making difficult decisions, demonstrated by restructuring of the Market & Advertising department and firing the head of department.  They were now independent sections, with an overall management structure which he headed, he presented clear objectives promoting Double O, designed to eradicate the infighting that had plagued the department for some years and broadcast the company to the wider world as a modern and forward thinking organisation.  His father was very pleased.  The Board were looking forward to his Chairmanship. 

Once the autumn campaigns were over he would move onto Finance, which was likely to happen in January, it was now early August 1928.  He had already started looking at the business’ financial health, there was too much cash lying around in the company, the first thing he would do was invest in plant and refineries, capital projects to secure the future of the company. Double O didn’t need to borrow cash and the markets were too strong, there were signs that all was not well in the stock market, he had to protect the company.

A question that had been creeping about him, came: Who would inherit after him?  Exactly who would benefit? 

He was an only child, sure there were other relatives, cousins and an uncle already involved in the company, ultimately the responsibility for producing an heir fell on him.  The organisation didn’t need a Chalamet to run it, his father had ensured that.  However, without a Chalamet at its head, it would somehow lose its heart. He was aware that real questions were being asked – his own father had started asking about grandchildren.  He didn’t know how to respond, he would have to address this with Beth – and with himself. 

What was he doing? 

He knew in his heart of hearts that Armie would not go away.  He had seen the steely look of determination and lust in his eyes, he was not going to just give up.  He had marked him for a purpose, marking not just for others to see but to ensure that Timothy knew what he carried – he was now owned, he carried someone’s marks. No one else had done that to him. He felt them, they had burned into his skin and his consciousness.  

Armie had picked up the edge of his skin and was crawling underneath it.


	7. War - Casey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie continues his campaign. Timothy begins to realise he is serious, and doesn't like the feelings which arise.
> 
> This is fiction, don't @ me, they were not even born.

All thoughts, all passions, all delights,   
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,   
All are but ministers of Love,   
And feed his sacred flame. **  
**

\- Coleridge

 

Armie took Casey to Crystal Nights, they were in his usual corner, other tables were in front of them, nobody faced them – it was private. They sat quietly, talking, mostly unnoticed, Armie was usually left alone. He hardly ever brought in a female guest but he was a good customer, he brought in interesting people and he spent money. Timothy was there with Beth and another couple he didn't know. By their dress he guessed they were out of towners.

Casey Mulligan was a businessman in the same field as Armie. He was building up a portfolio of motels in areas where new highways were planned, his strategy was to build just off major highways and on town or city outskirts.  He would get people stopping on their way in or out of town.

He was tallish, five eleven or so, blond, green eyes, very striking, he had Timothy's frame and similar facial features. If you stood them together the resemblance one dark one fair was compelling. He caught attention, when Armie saw he him he felt he had to get to know him to see if the looks belied intelligence.  That first time they met, Casey was with some people Armie knew.  Armie had dropped in at the Plaza’s public bar for a nightcap after a difficult business dinner – some individuals at dinner felt they had to right to tell him how to run his business.  A conglomerate wanted to buy a share of the hotel but the more Armie discussed the deal the less he felt like considering it, he didn’t think he could put up with compromising on every decision. He was a Tycoon not a Chairman.

He and Casey just hit it off, Casey was witty, warm and easy going – he made Armie laugh. They had met more than several times – he bought light into Armie’s life, whatever happened he was a keeper.  Casey was married, he loved his wife, the wife was understanding, Armie was safe. 

It was about a month, perhaps less, since he had fucked Timothy at The Hamptons, they had met socially but not intimately.  They were both staying away from each other, they knew why – what had happened before would happen again, it was inevitable.  They would wait, the circumstances were not right.

Timothy came over, Armie put a hand on Casey's leg. He stroked the leg balls to knee, knowing this will have the effect he needs, by the time Timothy arrives at table Casey is half hard, opens his legs and Armie squeezes his dick and his balls.  That makes Armie feel warm all over, his dick responds - he is getting hard, his two favourite people are in one place.  His blue eyes are black.

“How are you?”

Timothy ignores Casey, he knows where Armie's hand is. His bite mark is glowing, and throwing out green blood, jealousy crept into every vein. He is making small talk, but his head is spinning, he is asking himself who he belongs to, what does he want, who does he need? He is beginning to understand want, what it is to desire without fulfilment, Armie has broken down that door and at that moment he feels very strongly that Armie belongs to him, with him. With this he abruptly finishes talking and continues to the bar.  Armie follows him, stands in his space, Timothy curves into him, they look like lovers.

Casey knows about Timothy, he laughs gently to himself, Armie is playing them both, he knows why he was bought here.

 

“What are you doing with him?”

“What does it look like? You have two lovers, allow me this one.”

Armie returns to his table throws down a twenty and leaves with Casey. Timothy is watching every move. When he goes back to his table, he can't settle.  Beth takes pity and calls the evening to a close, the out of towners are getting tired anyway.

 

“Did he put those marks on you?”

By not answering Timothy confirmed her suspicions. 

“What is going on with you?”

Didn’t answer that one either, Timothy continued to get undressed.

Michael has to go. 

After The Hamptons they had graduated to sleeping in separate rooms. Timothy visited her when he felt like sex, which was not often, but he was going to fuck her tonight, probably the next night too, normally at this time of her cycle he would avoid sex. If they got a boy it was job done.

Once she was pregnant he would be free. 


	8. War - Michael

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The War continues. Armie is incorrigible, he is drawing in the line.

 

Timothy does have an apartment where he takes his lovers, Michael lives in a nice area but it is predominantly a black population and not in Manhattan.  When he does visit Timothy at the apartment on the Lower East Side, he has to leave and enter by the maids’ entrance.  Timothy cannot arrive or leave in daylight, always early morning or late at night in case he is seen. It is OK to be seen with Michael at parties or the theatre, but Michael is never mentioned in newspaper gazettes or photos. Timothy has seen to it that reporters are well fed and watered at any event he has some influence over, he has other bits of news he can feed them, it has paid off, Michael is the open secret that is not spoken of. 

Michael does not understand how his presence is kept out of public record. Armie takes him to dinner when Timothy has gone to Texas for a few days to fetch his father up to town for some business meetings. Over dinner Armie tells him how it all works using the example of F.Tamback who got away with alleged underage sex for many years only falling victim to a charge of murder when the mother turned to the press rather than the police.  Michael realises the secrets that Timothy has been keeping – how could he be so naïve. Trust is fragile, love cannot live without trust. What else has Timothy been hiding and why is Armie the one telling him? 

He is starting to think about his future, what it should look like. He has just turned forty, what will his life be in five years, the same? Is that what he wants?  He is nearly ten years older than Timothy…a large gap, not insurmountable. Where to go from here?  Armie was looking at him, assessing him.

“Shall we get a night cap at Crystal nights?”

 

Timothy arrived an hour later. He acknowledged neither of them, creating a stir by spending time at his regular table with J Walter Thompson and some other marketing and advertising executives.  He had invited Armie who had refused saying he was spending the night at home to catch up on some reading for a meeting about his projects in Las Vegas. Inwardly he smiled, he knew what that fucker was up to, he felt sorry for Michael.  Armie fake yawned and left, leaving behind Michael who had gone backstage to say hello to some friends. He did not acknowledge Timothy, Armie just swept past imitating lack of interest, he wasn’t fooled, Timothy wanted to know what he was up to.

 

Buck joins Armie for a meal in the smaller of the Plaza’s dining rooms, they stop for a cocktail in the discreet bar, there is a larger public bar, but Armie likes to take special guests to the Small Bar, as it is known – It is copy of the Savoy Hotel’s Beaufort bar in London – all art deco opulence, entrance is by invitation only – there is no list on the door, Armie oversees the list of guests.  He has the last word.

He and Buck get on well, Buck likes this tall composed, straight-up man, Armie reminds him of his Texan compatriots they take what they want and fuck you if you get in their way. He knows that Armie cares for Timothy. He can see that, it is written all over him, it’s not a bad thing.  Whatever they get up is their business.

 

Armie asked Michael to join them for a drink, he is on the way to see Gene Malin at Club Abbey with some friends.  Pansy cabaret was popular with straight and homosexual men; Manhattan was liberal.  Buck has not heard of pansy cabaret and is not so liberal that he would go, he wouldn’t like his son to go either, there is legacy and image to think of, he might have a leaning towards, well men, but this is a private matter and any public inference would be scandalous and not acceptable.  These issues have to be managed properly, having a close loving relationship with Armie was one thing, visiting a pansy cabaret was another.

“Hey Michael, over here. How are you?”

“I am well thank you Armie?  It's nice to see you, how are things?”

“Going well, the business is going well, we have managed to avoid the chambermaids’ strike that has hit the St. Regis, we upped their pay last year.  They are having a tough time - they have themselves a problem because they also had to sack their general manager, Paul Beauregard. 

“Oh I didn't realise they had sacked Paul, I heard he left to take up another post.”

“Left to take up another post, sacked it's the same thing.  He went to see Gene Malin at that pansy cabaret club - you know the one, Club Atlas?

Michael knew that was the wrong name but could not correct him publicly.  It occurred to him that perhaps he shouldn’t know about any of this, he’d met Paul several times mostly at bars after shows, there was a ‘certain’ crowd frequenting these bars, bars where Absinthe was served.  It was a common marker to indicate where homosexual men were welcome.

“Then he was caught in the bathhouse. You know my feeling on these things - he's well over forty. Live and let live eh Michael?”

 

Buck was looking from one face to the next. One: he didn't really know what Armie was talking about – but he could guess from the reference to pansy cabaret?   It didn’t take much intuition to work out what that meant. On his walk up to the hotel, he had seen a very effeminate man boldly walking up Park Avenue.  He had to avert his eyes.  Two: he knew fear when he saw it and Michael had switched from being collected to being on tenterhooks. He was looking into Armie's mouth to see what else might come out.  He put two and two together and came out with four.  Timothy would have to explain how well he knew Michael and the type of friendship he had with him, if it was what he was beginning to think it was, he would have to offer some fatherly advice and reiterate his expectations, starting with the need for an heir.

 

Armie had mixed up bathroom and bathhouse, what was he referring to? Did he mean bathroom?  That was just as bad.  There were regular raids on both, the police held raids every week, men were being held or prosecuted for lewd behaviour just for being in certain establishments. 

Michael had only visited Everard Baths because Timothy was away for a couple of weeks after he had been on tour, they hadn’t seen each other for a while. Michael was a good boy he went to a bathhouse only when he needed...Did Armie know? 

Armie went on: “Anyway enough about Everhard. Who wants a drink? Oh…here's Timothy…Everhard is a nick name for Everard Turkish Baths, Buck, guess why…ha ha ha…we are very liberal here in New York.”

Michael was now flushing very hard, colour rose up his skin. The effect of the conversation compounded because Michael didn't know that Timothy was joining them.  He wasn't, he was joining Armie and Buck for dinner, Armie asked him to come early for a cocktail before they sat down.  He hadn’t told Michael, who would have to deal with it.  After greeting his father with a handshake – Buck was not big on public demonstrations of affection, he turned his attention to Michael. Timothy extended his hand to Michael, he smiled pleasantly:

“How are you Michael, we keep missing each other, we have to catch up. How long are you in the city for?”

He took Michael's elbow and turned away from his father and Armie.  As if this all normal, Armie tactfully and skilfully carried on the conversation with Buck, Buck’s antenna was flashing alerts to his brain.

"I've missed you…” He squeezed Michael’s arm “I'll be in touch we need to talk, I'll get Ginny to call."  

He opened the conversation out, but his father had not missed the turning away – a fatherly talk was required.

“Yes, we need to sort out the schedule, Get Ginny to call the theatre on Tuesday, I’ll be back in town then.”

Michael didn't have a phone at home, normally he and Timothy made arrangements from one meeting to the next.  As he leaves he notices a gold chain on Armie’s wrist, it looks suspiciously like the one Timothy normally wears with his locket around his neck, the neck that had a fast fading bruise peeking above his collar.

 

It was the first thing that Buck had noticed - he wondered where the locket was…he has already guessed why Timothy has given it to him. But how did Michael know to notice it on Armie’s wrist?  And what the fuck was that on Timothy’s neck?

 

Michael opened the hand delivered packet. A train ticket, dollars and several pieces of paper fall out. 

The ticket is one way to Chicago. He picks up the paper, he knows what this means.  He settles himself makes some coffee and sits in his kitchenette. He looks around the apartment, he will miss New York.

He had seen how Armie looked at Timothy, on first meeting him he made no bones he looked like he would eat him up on the spot. Armie had manners, and was always polite,  warm and friendly. At first he was soft on Timothy, he was falling in love, he didn't want to make a bad impression and he needed to see how the land lie.  He patiently laid seige, but he didn't know Timothy.  He would take his own time to get to know you, then decide what he wanted from you. He could see Timothy remained uncertain about Armie, he didn't know what to do with him, what was he, lover or friend? Neither of them knew how similar they were to each other in this aspect.

Then Timothy made the mistake of fucking him or if he knew Timothy, asking to be fucked.  He knew how that felt, you couldn't take or go back to your previous life afterwards, he fucking ruined you. He knew that when it happened Armie would want to fuck him again. Armie was not going away and he guessed the timing, although several weeks had passed the marks were still on Tim's body. 

They had had three years, three good years mutually beneficial, he was forty it was time to settle down get someone of his own, someone free to love exclusively. He had felt the pain of sacrifices made when he was making them, he also remembered happy times they outweighed the bad times. Tim was what, thirty-one going on thirty-two, his life had to drift towards family and children. Really it was only a period of time before hard questions had to be asked and answered. He would miss him terribly.

Chicago was an opportunity as well as banishment. 

He picked up the papers, a job description for a theatre manager in Chicago’s up and coming black theatre land and a letter of recommendation.  He resigned himself, if it didn’t work out he would come back to Harlem. He knew how to disappear.  

A note from Buck, thanking him for being a good friend and servant to his son - he took Buck's words kindly he knew he meant with reference to both their relationship and common business ventures. He counted the money, ten thousand dollars, nothing to them but still a large amount of money. 

A photo fell out, it was a picture of Timothy and him, they were smiling, the opening of the Signature Theatre. Timothy’s handwriting on the back.

With love

and many memories

of my playhouse baby

xx

 

He started to cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is being monitored for tags, so if you know of anyone who was following Call Me by Your Name 2017 or Call Me by Your Name - All Media, could you let them know please.
> 
> I don't understand why the CMBYN fanfic writers are being reported for abuse, I understand it logically but not in reality, without the film or the book these stories would not exist and any one who objects needs to go back and watch the film and read the book. The stories here reflect only what is seen there - without those the themes are meaningless and would not work. What we see there is reflected here. If the person(s) complaining don't like the content they need to review what they think is happening in the original content, it is all of a piece.


	9. War - Beth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter looks at the perspectives of the key people involved. Beth is going to be a key person in this situation, Timothy loves her and she is understanding, after all Michael has been around for a long time. I toyed with the idea of making her a lesbian or giving her a male lover, decided against - these types of marriages are known. Beth is a nice person, she is shrewd, she hasn't caused Timothy any problems and she is protection. Armie and Timothy have to find a way of dealing with her. 
> 
> It has to be done strategically, but it is still a campaign, and not all wars cause bloodshed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction, don't @ me. They were not even born yet.

“Between two worlds life hovers like a star, twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge.”  
― George Gordon Byron

 

Armie can see that Timothy loves Beth, he doesn’t want to cause him hurt.  He just wants him to think of him first.  Before wife, father or company – it is that simple.  He cannot do without him and he wants Timothy to feel the same way.

 

The Hamptons was when his heart stood still, he let his true feelings come to the fore, the want had been upon him since he first slept with Timothy.  He had never experienced anything like it before, he felt completeness and he felt it in his solar plexus, it was seated there.  If anyone wanted to look into him, they would find a void, a void filled with pure desire.  He was able to carry out the daily business of dealing with his portfolio, finalise deals, manage staff but it was all with eye and heart focussed on Timothy.  He would find himself drifting off in day dreams about the bathroom sex. His body would re-enact the scene, many was the time he would need to go to a toilet cubicle and relieve himself, he couldn’t sit in meetings penis erect, distracted, mind blown for the foreseeable future.  He had things to do. If he couldn’t find resolution he would have to give Timothy up…so he had no choice, he had to help Timothy move on.

 

Beth is not stupid, her husband has the dazed look of a teenager in love.  At The Hamptons he makes sure that he kisses her goodnight in his day clothes, he is covered head to foot, even though days are reaching peak temperatures.  He won’t go to the beach, insisting that sun burn is a bad thing for the skin.  This was a man who last summer baked himself in the sun, on the beach or in the garden.  Sometimes, he sits ostensibly reading a book, but his gaze is far away, his eyes are glassy.  He has all the appearance of someone in the midst of a wild love affair.  Except he is not.

 

He never leaves the house.  He stays close to her, but he doesn’t want to have sex.  He is sociable, there are visitors to the house.  It is a large house, the Wyckoffs are splendid hosts.  They make sure their house guests want for nothing. She and Timothy have one of the new suites, it has a dressing room (where Timothy now sleeps) a double bedroom with a king size bed, a living space and an adjoining bathroom with modern fittings.  If they don’t want to, they don’t have to leave the suite.  There was that one day after their luncheon, when indeed Timothy did not leave the suite, he seemed physically uncomfortable, but she noticed that perversely he was turned on – when she tried to take advantage, he moved her hand away, got up and went to lie down in the dressing room.  He had his meals served there the following day too, claiming to be unwell.  Normally if he was not in the mood, he would invite her to take advantage of his body, she would suck and then ride him to orgasm, once started he would pretend not to be interested but his cock said otherwise.  He didn’t offer and when he turned away she saw the bruise on his neck he was trying to hide; she knew then that he had a lover that he could not go public with, a lover who was more important to him than Michael, this was bad.  Bad because this was the first time something like this had ever happened, and bad because it was bound to affect her.

 

It had to be Armie. He was the only relatively new person to their social circle whose eyes did not meet hers evenly and who was always in a hurry to be other than where she was - lovers are susceptible to guilt.

 

If he could he would apologise to Timothy.  He had kind of set up Michael’s departure.  Buck was generous in spirit, he loved his son and he loved Armie – as far as he was concerned if Timothy needed a male lover better it was someone who had as much to lose, someone who was in their social circle, an equal.  Better still a person who really cared for Timothy.  He had only to drop the right hint and Buck managed the situation for him.  Buck spoke with Timothy about Michael and with regret Timothy acknowledged that the affair had run its course.  He had taken many risks to be with Michael, there wasn’t only the apartment and potential of being caught in a compromising situation - the biggest risk was blackmail, he’d been lucky.

 

Armie read Timothy correctly, he was ruthless, he just needed a reason.

After the luncheon, Timothy was shocked into wantonness.   He was physically sore for several days, he watched bruises and bite marks change colour in the mirror – he inspected them every day and every day he was reminded of sex with Armie, he savoured the memories with relish.  He would lie on the day bed in the dressing room and give himself up to the memory, the sensations, the helplessness – he would be so turned on that he had to touch himself, it wasn’t painful enough - he longed to be under Armie’s hands, pressed against his body, above all spread beneath him.

Armie had marked him and he realised he wanted him to do it again – it was something beyond liking.

 

Armie wasn’t sure what to do about Beth.  She was a key component of the situation – Timothy needed an heir and it made sense that she provided him with one, better still a second child to ensure the family was complete.

If he was honest, he’ll like to get rid of her.  He wasn’t willing to share Timothy.  He might mess around with Casey, and he was considering getting himself a lover or wife too, to ward off suspicion, people were beginning to ask him if he ever thought of marrying.  But in reality he wanted Timothy and only Timothy – he had been fucking spoiled the first time Timothy laid hands on him.

He wondered if she had any lovers, he hadn’t spotted any sign of one and she didn’t give off a sense of her sexual needs being fully met, you could almost tell when she and Timothy had fucked – oh yeah, it was so obvious it wasn’t frequent.  She hung onto him, hands slinking over him, running round, back and forth to him.  He knew how that felt.  She had to go or at least be made neutral. He had to get to know her, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. He would make a start.

 

Beth decided to play it cool, Armie might replace Michael – that wasn’t a bad thing, he fit in better.  He was invited to their house, he could even be invited to spend vacation time with them.  The problem was she didn’t trust him.  She saw how he looked at Timothy, even in formal social situations she would frequently catch Armie looking their way, less than discreetly.

She would smile a greeting, but he would ignore her, he didn’t even see her. Because she was used to Timothy’s business colleagues behaving in a similar way she didn’t think anything of it.  Now she realised what was really going on she wondered how many times they had slept together.  If only a few times, then the period of danger had not passed, there was no time for complacency.  They might do anything to be together.

 

She does not count on Timothy re-assessing why he has two lovers, he is thinking: if he should get rid of one, he should consider getting rid of the other.  The only reason he holds off divorcing Beth is that he knows his set up offers protection from people who do not know him and the whisper of scandal, the fear is real.  Armie was not easily deterred; he was single – that was also drawing attention, questions about marriage and an heir were plaguing him as well.  His father had not minced his words, essentially saying: ‘How much longer are you going to fuck around?’

 

He would have to talk to Beth.  He hadn’t spoken to Armie in a meaningful way since the Hamptons, but he had to make it clear to Beth – Armie was not negotiable, he needed the chance to discover what he meant to him.

He considered many options:

  * Asking Armie to take Stella as his wife, that way everyone was covered it was the least disruptive route
  * Setting Beth up in her own apartment and paying her maintenance, but absolutely not divorcing
  * Fucking her senseless, getting his heir, continue the façade
  * Move abroad, set up a life with Armie in Europe, attitudes were different there. Not. Remotely. Feasible.
  * Keep the apartment, he could refurbish it – same problem as before and anyway memories of Michael would be all around him.
  * Moving into the Plaza in the pretence that their apartment needed refurbishing. This had potential, it wasn’t a long-term solution, but it was a start.



Beth loved projects and she loved to please him – moving into the Plaza would give him a chance to get to know Armie properly and he could invite her to the hotel for drinks and meals with Armie.  He would leave Beth in the apartment to oversee the 'refurbishment' on the basis that he needed privacy and the space to continue working effectively.  He’d risk the side eye she was likely to give him.  She wasn’t stupid - she would know her choice was to lose him one way or another, or maintain contact in whatever form he chose.  He cared for her, but if she made him choose she would be hurt.

Beth loved him and wanted the best for him – if he asked she would stay, ultimately the other option was that one leave the other, she didn’t want that and Michael’s absence had not gone un-noticed, he would want to avoid scandal.  The odds were in her favour.

It was a start.


	10. Buck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buck has a conversation with Armie.
> 
> Buck is a straightforward person, he would take Armie to task as well.
> 
> This is fiction, don't @ me they were not even born in the 1920s or 1930s.

And it came to pass, when he had made an end of speaking unto Saul, that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.  

- **1 Samuel 18**

 

“Armie let me buy you dinner.  Timothy has a concert to go to tomorrow and I'd rather have a drink. I'll come to the hotel around 8, bone-in filet well done, steamed potatoes and creamed spinach. Book us into the small dining room. Evening, see you tomorrow””

He hung up.

Armie wondered what he had done. This mega tycoon did not waste his time, he had come up to do business and also spend time with his son, so this was important.  If he wanted to have dinner he had something to say.

Armie came down from the hotel office. He had one there, a formal office and a former bedroom that had been converted into a library come home office.  If he ever had to convert it back to a bedroom he could pull out the bookcases and desk.  It was very modern, mainly light coloured furniture and a couple of silver mirrors and lamps – Art Deco was a thing.  He had been working his way round the apartment, updating the furniture which his parents had brought up from their apartment on the Upper East Side.  Armie wanted to bring his home up to a level which equalled his standing.  It was time to think about the future. He was no longer a young man without any responsibilities he was approaching thirty five, a time when many men had married and were fathers, he ran a number of hotels, he had large amounts of money invested in other businesses. He had a stake in Casey's business. He had to think beyond the impulse to dominate his sphere of interest and build an empire just because he could. What was the point?  Who was going to inherit? He had no desire to leave behind a foundation or cultural legacy, so what was the point?

Buck wasn't a typical Texan, Beth had taken him to the newly opened Bergdorf Goodman. She had persuaded him to buy several new suits, some shirts and other accessories. He didn't like waste but he hadn't bought a new suit in five years.  Beth had taken one look at him and baldly said: “You do not look like a man worth shit.  It's time for a new outfit.”  He could recognise when it was time to cede to youngsters – he retained an interest in new technologies, phones, cars and radios, they marked a new age, different to his youth which was largely reliant on pen, paper and ink for entertainment.  He listened to his friends and business colleagues, he knew which ones would survive in times of trouble, from now on it was a case of go forward or go down.

Buck did not want to know the details of his son’s love life.  It was complicated, the mechanics were frightening.  He loved his son and anyone his son loved, he loved too.  Within reason.  That coloured man was cultured, well in fact refined, very gentle in manner – he could understand Timothy’s interest in him, but even he could see that Armie was a very attractive man, he oozed sex, man if he was inclined that way he would take the chance too – he got why Timothy was interested, boy when Armie stood next to you he drew you like a bull with a ring through your nose you had to come.

“Hey Armie, how are you boy?  Timothy has told me a great deal about you, sit down and tell me how come you and he met – what’s the story?”

Armie thought, he knows why is he asking me?  He knew he had to be absolutely straight with Buck, he wanted to stay on good terms with him, not just because of Timothy but because in the wider business world he had the capacity to destroy him.  Not in the sense of destroying his business, he was an honourable man he wouldn’t stoop to making a negative campaign about his hotels, but in the sense that he could put the word out and make him persona non grata.  The invites would stop coming and his contacts would be too busy to meet him.  He had to find out why Buck was taking a sudden interest.

They spent the next half an hour scoping each other out.  Armie outlined his plans for the next five years, he talked about this plans to renovate the parts of the Plaza which were part of the original building, he wanted to create a pent house suite for him and Timothy – he was less honest about this, and he had plans to create an equivalent empire in Las Vegas.  It was a resort area that had plenty of potential, if he got in there first, there would be less trouble, the Italians were already making in-roads, if he could get his own protection and security sorted, he might have a chance there was money to be made.

Buck told him nothing about his business, he didn’t need to - it was all in the public domain the companies were run on the straight up, accounts were published, Double O was an open book.  Buck Chalamet was a man of his word, if you dealt fairly with him he dealt fairly with you.  Armie sat across from him and waited, something was coming.

“You know I love my son dearly, Armie – I can see you love him dearly too”

Armie wanted to demur – he did not love Timothy, he couldn’t say what it was but it was something other than love.  He waited.

“Why the fuck did you leave him with a permanent mark on his body?”

Armie went hot and fucking cold.

“He is not a slave, a pig or bull, to carry a mark of an owner, he is a human being who cares about you very much.  You don’t own him he has a right to walk freely, clear of any burden imposed by you.  What the fuck were you thinking?”

Armie still could not answer.

“When I was twenty-five, I met a woman.  She was twenty-seven, my father’s executive assistant, they didn’t call women that in those days, she was very independent, would not listen to a man and was not afraid to put my father straight. She ran a salon, a meeting house where men could come and go, discuss the news of the day. She helped my father assimilate into society, she educated him.  He was twenty years older than her, it was of no consequence.  Caroline was one of a kind.

I went into my father’s office one day, she was looking for pamphlets on British suffragettes for a talk she giving to the womenfolk at the town library in Dallas.  Remember in those days the girls wore long skirts, hair was perfectly dressed, their breasts everything were hidden – not like today some of these girls might as well be naked.  Jesus.

All I could go on was her allure, I saw her and I wanted her.  She never revealed anything of her body I never saw her naked, at least I never saw her body under any kind of light, the mystery was always preserved.  She was like a flower, something to be treated kindly, tended, and protected from harm.  I wanted to do that for her.

She was intelligent, the kind of intelligence that could mark you for stupid. I didn’t mind those marks, they helped shape me as a man.  What will your mark do for Timothy?

We went on to have a deep friendship that lasted until her death two years ago.  I don’t know if Timothy knows about her, to be honest if is of no consequent if he does, it will not take away my love for her or for his mother.

Look, I understand the desire to dominate another person sexually Armie, sometimes the lust is upon us and we cannot see beyond gaining our own satisfaction, I had moments that I can say were less than gentlemanly.”

He was a gentleman from top to bottom and he knew the power of instinct, that thing that makes your body hum, the thing that makes you want to get inside and out of a person – to own them, the base impulse that led to rash behaviour.

“I don’t understand why youngsters of today want to disrespect people they care about – what is that about?“

It was a rhetorical question, he did not want Armie to answer, he wanted him to consider his words, and the ramifications of his behaviour.

“I don’t expect you to answer me – you can’t tell me coherently why you had to do it, but I know Armie, I know, I have been there and I learnt to control that base instinct because I saw how it can destroy if left unmanaged.  I thought Caroline was a woman of the world, able to handle my gross behaviour – it was only when she threatened never to see me again, that I became aware that I had been selfish.

She enjoyed my company she allowed me many pleasures, but I was selfish, over time it became a disrespect because I cared more about my own satisfaction than ensuring that we were both left happy – it took the promise of banishment to make me realise that I had to grow up and be a man.

I started again with her, I courted her and sent her reminders of my affection, I reminded her why she wanted to spend time with me. I did not try to spend intimate time with her until I had regained her trust proved when she asked me to come for a late dinner – all was not forgiven, it took a long time.  I never forgot that I had almost lost her for the sake of my own sexual pleasure.”

 

Buck had not discussed this with Timothy.  He had observed Michael and he knew Armie, only one person wanted to dominate in that way.  Only one person felt he had an absolute right to do so, and wanted to show everyone else to see that Timothy was taken.  It was a sign of weakness, if he was sure of Timothy’s regard, he would naturally show him respect and trust him, furthermore trust that this would be reflected back.

 

Armie was silent. He had two arguments going round in his head, one speculating that Timothy had enjoyed the sex and that he welcomed the bruises and bite marks – they did mark Timothy as belonging to Armie, an inescapable demonstration of Armie’s love.  He knew that Timothy had enjoyed being dominated in some aspects, but would he enjoy it on an ongoing basis?  That was questionable, even he had to admit that his behaviour was unacceptable.  The alternative argument was not an argument it was the feeling of shame.

Shame won.  His lizard brain was still working

The next time they did it Timothy had to give him a safe word.  .


	11. The Plaza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have to play out. It is not going to be easy. Decisions have been made, but not everyone is in on the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction, don't @ me, they were not even born at the time of this story.

“What comes from the heart goes to the heart”  
― Samuel Taylor Coleridge

 

“What are you doing?”

“Good Morning Mr Hammer, I was going to call your secretary - I’m just getting my things together here.  I think it would be good to get together for lunch sometime this week, I know we have some things to discuss.  I should have been in touch earlier.”

Armie was looking at Timothy with fury.  The fucker had the audacity to book a suite in the Plaza for three months. He had booked it under his real name and he hadn’t discussed it with him. He should have asked permission. He had only found out because Barbara, his executive assistant, had asked him when he might be free to meet the new inhabitant of penthouse suite No2.  He had the No1.  He would normally meet Penthouse suite holders, they were internationally known individuals: movie stars, tycoons, royal family members, old money family members (with something to hide), as the owner it was expected – it also give him a chance to work out what the inhabitant was like, if he or she was going to cause trouble.

The penthouses had their own lifts and entrances, they were the ultimate in luxury.  They had a dining area and a living area, two bedrooms, a large bathroom with a two person shower and standalone bath, the taps gold plated and mounted to the side.  Bathroom counters were lined with marble, the wash basins with gold taps were set into the counter.  A shower room with toilet and basin. Two further separate toilets.  Everything was thought of.  If the inhabitant wanted he or she could spend their entire stay without encountering a single person.  The bedrooms were extravagant.  Miles of black cloth lined the walls, the carpets were deep pile, a deep cream offset by a variety of gold coloured fittings including a headboard and bed base, these were covered in a soft gold coloured brocade. The rooms felt plush, there was nothing garish.  The living and dining areas similarly deep cream, gold and signature elements of tan brown. Walnut marbled furniture finished off the rooms.  Armie had had the latest designers in to create the best in modern accommodation.  His penthouse apartment was a mixture of very rich dark blue, almost black, similar dark cream carpets, gold brocade and dark chocolate signatures.   These colours set him off perfectly, his blue eyes dramatic in the colour scheme, his dark blond hair looking burnished.  He never brought lovers here, in fact he had only brought one person here, Stella and that for a drink before going on elsewhere.  If he wanted to sleep with someone, Casey included he tended to take them home to the apartment.  In a way it was more private there but also more public – more normal.  If he couldn’t take them home, he didn’t sleep with them. The Penthouse was for privacy, for someone special, he knew when he was preparing it, that it had to be that way else it was no more than an ordinary hotel room for passing strangers.

The penthouses were not adjoining, the lifts cleverly installed so that they were completely separate, the backs of the lifts aligned, to avoid noise travelling, there was a lobby on each side to further reduce any noise interference.  The entrance from the street was covered and entered from different sides of the building. They were private.

Nobody knew Timothy was there, he was finally making good use of the money the family had.  He had spoken directly to Barbara who knew all of Armie’s business, she even knew that there was something between them – he didn’t know how, but she knew.  She organised everything including hiring men from Pinkerton to bring in his cases and items he required from his apartment.  As far as possible he wanted only his staff, his valet was given a room away from hotel staff. His food was cooked in the hotel kitchen but he brought up an under butler from the Texas house to serve, he too was given a room.  He had planned it methodically, he wanted no-one to know where he was staying. If he needed anything else he would go through Barbara, the hotel had a concierge, but he also knew that the concierge was a source of information for gossip and reporters, he wasn’t going to risk it.   He was still going into work and carrying out his evening commitments but he wanted to be on hand with Armie who was increasingly spending more time at the hotel than his apartment on Park Avenue.

He would find a way of punishing Armie for his rudeness, and he would enjoy it, a small smile, he was not laughing.  Armie had taught him well.

 

Armie was wondering himself why he had been so rude.  He was unsettled, the same as Timothy had been when he had taken Casey to the club.  It was the same thing – Timothy had stepped into his realm, and he didn’t know how he had got there.

He was so used to dominating, he did it in business and he was dominant in bed.  Normally.  He could see that Timothy might be the one that caused him to question this.  It still didn’t make his behaviour right.  Timothy had enjoyed the sex, man it was so wrong that it turned out alright, the thought was having its normal effect on him, his dick was beginning to lengthen.  He had to turn his thoughts off.  He went back to the office, he wanted to speak with Barbara anyways, she must have known he was coming, and she was the only person in the whole building discreet enough to know that since Timothy was on site he would be spending a lot of time with him.  That lunch date needed to be organised, and quickly.

 

Timothy invited Armie for lunch a week later, he requested that the food be brought to his suite.  He asked for two bottles of white burgundy from France, the menu was simple, dover sole with butter and black pepper, baby potatoes and spinach.  Dessert was a lemon posset with shortbread. It is October, Autumn is here.

Apparently lunch was being held in order to discuss a potential joint venture into development of an oil for an oil based heating system. Armie would try it out in one of his smaller hotels, the Belvedere over on 10th Avenue near Hell’s Kitchen.  The system was already installed, oil and thermostats were needed to make it cost efficient. Double O would provide the fuel, General Electric the thermostats. If effective it could be installed in other hotels.

Armie had to go all the way down and out of the hotel to go round to the No.2 lift. As he turned into the covered walk way he could have sworn that Beth had turned in before him, he was running late he walked quickly.  The lift was already on its way up – it was Beth.

He was piqued. He had hoped to have Timothy to himself – he wasn’t planning on ‘anything’ but he wanted to spend time with him, find out how he was feeling about him, start talking earnestly about them – he wanted to know what to expect, what steps were next.  Now fucking Beth was going to be there.  Why had Timothy invited her?

They were both standing to greet him when he came out of the lift. He looked from one to the other, they looked like they had decided on something, a pair.

“Welcome Armie, how nice to see you. It’s been a while hasn’t it – August at The Wyckoffs. I’m sorry I haven’t had time to invite you over to ours for dinner, we’ll make up for it now.”

Timothy was standing there smirking.

Armie didn’t know what to do.

“Why don’t we go through – lunch is ready, we can talk whilst we are eating. How is your mother…”

Beth was all gracious hostess but she was obviously not staying there.  She had come up in the lift and she didn’t know the layout of the room, she had to ask where to find a spare water glass.  He noticed she wasn’t drinking – he and Timothy drank most of the available wine.  There was something about Beth, something he couldn’t pin down.  They spoke only cursorily about the oil, they mostly caught up with each other.  Beth confirmed that Timothy was staying in the Penthouse alone, she was in their apartment overseeing some work, but he couldn’t really work out the extent of the work, they were both vague.  She explained that she had been feeling tired so the work was being delayed somewhat.  Armie was puzzled, they could afford a project manager, why didn’t she move in with Timothy?  She remained assured, astute, she was gauging his reactions - that was Beth, she didn’t let anything phase her.  She knew how he felt about Timothy, she’d seen how he was in public and he stopped trying to hide it when in their company, especially now.  He wanted to take him all in, to be beside him, touch him, they brushed fingers passing salt it was like electric Armie jumped when their skin met.  She almost laughed, choosing to smile gently at them both. But the way she was with Timothy was different, and he with her.  He was taking care of her no…no…no… Armie felt a cold sweat jump across his body no…no…no, the wedding ring had been replaced by an eternity band of diamonds no…no…no her face glowed, she looked peacefully at Timothy who squeezed her fingers and stood as she rose to go to the bathroom.

“What did you expect?”

Armie was devastated and his mind started rambling, thoughts incoherent.  In fact he fell to pieces.

He had no right…she was his wife…had they reconciled…an eternity ring…pregnant…he needed an heir…he needed a moment…he knew this might happen…but…pregnant… he had started this whole process….Buck was involved…Michael was gone he was meant to replace him.  Thought upon thought tumbled through his brain.  It didn’t make sense.  He had a plan – Beth was supposed to wait until he had worked out how to deal with her. It wasn’t fair…it wasn’t fair…they had gone behind his back…he had fucked her…when?

Timothy just regarded him blandly, he had had to process the idea, the same thoughts had run round his head, he had had time to, if not come to terms, at least start a process for rectifying his situation, his face now a mask.

He had been fucking her not him.  It hurt, this was illogical. Fuck that, he was hurting.  He knew he was behaving like a spoilt child - Timothy the toy he was fighting over. It fucking hurt. What about him? He had no-one now, a pain ran down the centre of his chest, he wanted to be sick, bile swirled in his stomach.

 

Now Michael was no longer around, Timothy had stopped fucking around literally and metaphorically. He concentrated on his priorities – one of whom was Armie.  He knew he wouldn’t understand initially, this was all part of the process, one which he hoped would lead to him and Armie being together for the longest time.  Just now it was going to be difficult.

Beth came back into the room, she went over to Armie, drew up a chair alongside him, she knew Timothy had not been kind. 

 “Armie I hope you can be happy for us…this in no way changes your relationship with Timothy.  I am not here to create any drama or make Timothy come home to me.  He wants to spend time with you. I am not going to stop him.  He cares very much for you and he wants to find out what you feel for him.  It will take time for all of us to work out our boundaries, how we go forward.  You won’t believe me now but this is for the best.  Once everyone knows I am going to have a baby, there will be less attention on Timothy, we are going to announce it to our friends when we are absolutely certain everything is OK.  Buck knows of course.  You’ll have to find a way of accepting this is really for the best.  In a few weeks the attention will all be on me, you will get back your time with Timothy, nobody ever pays any attention to the father-to-be, I shall probably go to stay with my family and also with Buck.  You really don’t need to worry…”

Her words were like ashes. He stopped listening.

His face was set.  He wouldn’t thank her or Timothy, he just wanted to be left alone.  He got up and walked out of the room.  He could hear Timothy calling him as the lift door closed.

 

“I didn’t expect to see you back…”  Barbara took one look at her boss, and decided no more words were required.  He went past her into his office, picked up his briefcase and slammed both doors on his way out.  Five minutes later, there was a call from Mr Chalamet – put another lunch into Armie’s diary (yes he called him Armie) on Friday please and book out the rest of the afternoon. Please only tell him about lunch.  Can she also book a car or get his car to the hotel to take them to the Hamptons, Longhouse for Friday afternoon – could she do one more favour please, arrange for a weekend case to be packed please for Armie.  He would be very grateful for her help.  He thanked her and put the phone down.  She noted that in his own way Mr Chalamet was authoritative, he was softly spoken but he had a way about him that dictated compliance with his requests.  Armie was very lucky.

 

Friday came round. Armie’s mood had risen to sulking.  That meant he would talk to Timothy but he at the moment he hated him.

 

Barbara had decided to take a direct route with Armie.  Rather than going around him to find out what clothes he had – he didn’t have a valet, she asked him for his sizes, on the pretext that there was a big dinner coming up and she wanted to go the Bergman’s to look at a new dinner jacket for him.  Tails were definitely out, and she thought that if she could find him a dark blue velvet jacket then he would make a very good impression.  She used the information to buy him some clothes for the weekend, including underwear.  She put the bags and boxes in the trunk of the car – she got it up early.  If they decided to go at lunchtime everything was in hand.  Timothy should be very pleased.

 

He still hated him.  Until he saw him. Then he felt like not talking. Then he felt like he was being stupid.  Finally he had to admit he didn’t want to be on bad terms anymore.

Timothy was very patient.  He knew what state of mind Armie was in when he had left on Tuesday.  He had anticipated some kind of bad behaviour.  Armie was so used to getting his own way, immediately or eventually, that it would not have occurred to him that Timothy and Beth were already on the same page regarding children and the implications for all of their relationships. And, it was being done for their benefit.

He probably thought he would be able to waltz in and create havoc in the same way that he thought he had done with Michael.  Yes, he had started the process but Timothy had already decided that Michael was not in his future.  In truth the decision had been forced out of him when he and Armie had first had sex, he just hadn’t made up his mind how it was going to happen.  He was grateful that Armie had initiated the process.  He was so glad that Beth had chosen to stay and also that she wanted the child as much as he needed to have one. Their future was becoming clearer and more secure, now he had to make sure that Armie was OK.

 

When he came out of the hotel, he half expected to see Beth in front of him. He was relieved when he got to the lift and it was at ground level waiting for him.

Timothy met him at the lift door and walked straight into his arms.

“You do know I would not do anything to harm you, or which would put what we have in jeopardy?  You know that don’t you?”

Armie could only be silent, he wanted to shout, tell Timothy to shut up, to wait until his feelings had died down.  He couldn’t speak, so he held on.  Moments passed before he had gathered himself and was able to talk.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What was there to tell?”

They walked through to the living space, lunch was yet to arrive – Timothy poured Armie a bourbon from a bottle sent up by his father. He joins him on the sofa.

“I had to go down this route.  People were beginning to talk Armie.  I couldn’t not try to have children.  A business empire like Double O needs to have a secure future, otherwise investors start to question it’s viability – having a child doesn’t secure the company but it is an indication that the future is being considered.

I couldn’t carry on with the lifestyle Armie. It’s OK to have a variety of lovers when you are young but at some point if you are to become a serious person you have to make choices.  I sat down with my father and he asked me directly: What did I want?  Was it Double O, or did I want to be free to do exactly what I wanted, love who I wanted when I wanted?  I told him about you Armie, I told him how I felt about you, how I felt after the sex – you know…he was surprisingly understanding.  He helped me clarify what I need. And I need you, but in order to have you I needed to make my life seem conventional, and that involves children.  I was not fucking Beth, I was making my future – I love Beth, and that is not going to change, she has to be part of our future.  She has been very tolerant.  Can you handle that? Do you understand what it will mean?”

Armie has to be honest.  He doesn’t know.  He has to grasp onto the words, his brain is a bubble of sounds. He remains silent.  Timothy goes on.

“Do you know what you want Armie?”

Armie is still phased. No, he is clear, he does know, and it will not change. He knows he is being selfish.  He wants Timothy, he doesn’t want Beth.

 

Timothy places a hand on Armie’s knee, his intention is to bring him out of his reverie.  The hand seems to develop a will of its own.  It has been a long time.  There is such a thing as muscle memory.  A finger traces a line of muscle on Armie’s inner thigh, Timothy looks into his face, then deep into his eyes.  Armie sets down the glass.  He looks into Timothy’s face, he is beginning to feel emotional because he knows he is still in the wrong.  Timothy gently smiles to let him know it is alright.  Armie dips and turns his head, his lips brush Timothy’s. He looks at him, asking silently if this is OK, the hand begins to stroke his thigh, the answer is yes.

“Sit back”

Timothy undoes the buttons on Armie’s trousers, he slips his hand in, takes the palm of his hand and uses the hard centre to rub circles on the head of Armie’s dick, it responds, there is a hitch in Armie’s breath.

“When is lunch arriving…somebody…what if…shit…”

He tries to take Timothy’s hand away.  Timothy looks at him, and shrugs him off.

“Do you still want lunch?”

The palm is still making movements on his dick, of course he doesn’t want lunch, but he also doesn’t want to get caught, and he doesn’t want to leave a mark on the chair, that would be embarrassing.

Timothy leans across him, his hand reaches into his pants and pulls Armie’s dick through the opening. He firmly grips it, he feels it like he wants to remember it the skin folds veins further down changes around his balls, a seam, back up he takes the head between thumb and first finger, he feels the ridge between crown and the shaft  – soft flesh just giving when squeezed or pressed.  Armie was a good size, he wrapped his hand around it, it fills his hand – started pulling up and then down so the skin on the head was stretching, and then wrinkling softly, his own dick was beginning to tingle.  Armie was watching the hand, then not watching – mild groaning, not quite moaning – he was trying to hold on, he didn’t want to come but the caressing was having a powerful effect, more powerful than heavy strokes.

Timothy leans across and kisses him firmly, forcing his mouth open, his tongue presses in.   Armie breaks off.

“Lunch…”

“They can’t get in, remember, they need a key to get into the lift.  I have both keys. We won’t be eating food.  Take off your clothes”

 

Armie lay naked on the bed, Timothy lay beside him, stroking his chest – again trying to fix a memory, the hair, he brushed a nipple brought his head down and sucked it.  Armie’s hand made an involuntary movement to his own dick. Timothy slapped it away.

“When did you know that you liked men?”

Armie turned to face him.

“I only knew when I saw Elio.  I had no inkling before then.  I wasn’t one of those people who knew at an early age. And even then I did not feel that I was exclusively interested in men.  I liked him I liked the person.  Now I seem to be exclusively interested in one man…” 

He took his dick in hand, playing with it to keep it hard.  Timothy watched his hand, scooted down the bed, got close to him, he placed a leg over his hip, their cocks touch where they can, Armie removes his hand.

“What about you?”

“I have always preferred to men to women, when I was a small child I became friends with Andrew Brown, he was my idol – for a long time I looked up to him, I used to follow him around.  Beth was always around, she followed me the way I followed Andrew, our parents thought it was cute.  When I was thirteen I discovered how cruel others could be – do you remember we spoke about this?  Andrew’s family had moved away, he was used to me and he protected me – he wasn’t interested in me in that way, and he has stayed my good friend.  The family that moved in were not at all sophisticated, the sons were all football players, they did not take kindly to my friendly overtures – in fact they called me a faggot. 

You have my locket, you know what I looked like. I have always have a slim frame, back then I hadn’t reached anywhere near my height, so I was a skinny man child who was known to chase after other boys.  I stopped going out for two years, it was Beth who came to my rescue – that is when I learned to love her.  It is from her that I learnt love is a great leveller.  Still, I don’t think I will ever love her the way she loves me, she is my companion – she wants a lover. 

I have something to tell you Armie, it is important for our future.

When I sleep with her, it is in no way the same as sleeping with you.  It is not about the mechanics of sex. My feeling when I am in bed with her is that of a friend that I would do almost anything for.  Lying here with you is completely different, I want to be in your arms, I want to be inside you, or for you to be inside me.  My heart is full when I am with you Armie, when we had sex I felt joined to you, you are part of me, I am part of you.  She is no threat to us.  I love her but I do not love her in the way in which I will always love you, she does not drive me physically.  You must be asking how it works then?  Sometimes she will do something and I think yes I will sleep with you tonight, other times she asks if she can sleep with me, I let my body go over to its base instinct – I don’t always come, she mostly does – she finds me attractive.  It is sufficient.”

He reached up and gently kissed Armie.

Armie reached down and took his lover into his arms, they pressed their bodies together – it became urgent.  They wanted to be joined together.  Timothy let Armie take over.  Armie kissed him, pressing onto his lips his tongue finding Timothy’s, remembering his taste, the shape of his mouth – it was alright to let go of all his concerns and kiss him deeply, to hold on to each other while open mouthed, give over to the physical. It was representative of the journey they were making, they knew each other and didn’t know enough.  It should be tender and yet demanding.

Timothy manoeuvred himself underneath Armie, he lifted his legs, he wanted to wrap them around Armie, his body was preparing itself for Armie’s body.

“Turn over baby”. 

Armie was going to take care of him, he would ensure it was an enjoyable experience.

Timothy turned, raised his ass in preparation. 

“Have you..?”

“Yes…”

His tongue pressed against Timothy’s hole, he rolled it against the pink flesh, then swiped across and down, Timothy issued a sharp intake of breath,

“How was that darling?”

His response was deep breathing, inhalation, sounds rising up from his throat.  He continued.

Armie stroked Timothy’s hole with his index finger, licked the pucker, sucked as the finger pressed inwards, added another finger and swiped inside.  Timothy’s dick lengthens hardens.

“Ah…fuck…do that again…”

 

Armie took hold of his own dick and pulled it hard several times, his cock responded by weeping pre-come and stretching taut - it felt fantastic.  He couldn’t help it, he groaned in anticipation.  He wanted to be selfish, to look for his pleasure alone but knew that in this phase of their relationship it was not the right time – a time would come for that.

He pressed his dick into Timothy, he did not halt he pressed deep, once entirely inside he brought Timothy down, his chest grazing Timothy’s back, Timothy shudders as Armie takes his dick in hand, softly twisting – his hands are large…He mouths against his ear:

“Open your legs, baby”

His hands gathers dick and balls together – he gently rubs them, using his palm he starts stroking up and down both, his fingers sensitively feeling, rubbing the shaft, squeezing balls, working his hand between them, circling his hole, touching his dick everything felt intensified, waves of pleasure are flooding through Timothy.

“Do you want to come now or will you wait for me?”

“Ahh…Armie…just fuck me”  Breathy.

Armie slowly withdrew, and then pushed himself into Timothy again this time making sure he was fully seated, he paused, kissed Timothy’s neck where he had bruised him:

“Sorry. I will never take anything from you again unless you willingly give it to me”

Timothy felt owned with love.

He reached back and pressed Armie’s thigh.  His apology accepted, Armie pulled him close hooking his arm round his body, covered him then slowly started to fuck him, Timothy pressed his legs into Armie, tipping his hips opening his ass for maximum closeness, for micro thrusting, soon they were rocking rhythmically together, sensations for both developed slowly, muscles began to work in partnership, soon they were lost in each other.  Timothy was skilful in love making, he waited until the first throes of orgasm were passing through Armie and then released his own orgasm, their bodies pulsed together, muscles fused, they felt everything as one.

Peace.


	12. Timothy - August 1928

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timothy's perspective - August 1928.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction, don't @ me. They were not even born.

“All days are nights to see till I see thee,   
And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.”   
― William Shakespeare, Sonnets 

 

I shouldn’t have done that.

Michael will not be happy, it is a given that we don’t hide anything.  If I need to take another lover I tell him – but I don’t think I can tell him about Armie, this is different.  I’ll have to tell him I don’t know how I feel about Armie, I’ll have to lie.  

  * Of course I am lying, I know exactly how I feel about Armie, and I do not want to fuck this up.



Better still I’ll say nothing and hope some big mouthed bastard doesn’t talk first.

Armie and I cannot lie about each other, he flushes and I shut up, we pretend not to care.

I don’t care what Beth thinks, in fact Beth does not even want to know, she only asks that I am discreet.  She knows what I need.  I don’t mean I don’t care I mean it doesn’t matter, is that the same thing?  I don’t care.

When I am near him I want to be able to spend all my time with him to have him to myself I want to be able to hold and kiss him in public as if he were my wife.  I long for him in any bed he is the first person that comes to mind.  When I am inside someone, it is Armie that I am thinking of.  He is like a liquid aphrodisiac that I would willing drink feel snaking through me.  He stands next me my whole body is on fire for him.

I can’t tell you how happy he made me last week.  I knew that he would buy my basket, he was my idol for making sure that I would be partnered with him. I chided him but my heart was full.  I have never had anyone so openly desire me, or want me so much other than for sex or power.  He wants me physically but he also wants me for myself, he is interested in me and whatever I am doing.

Beth gives me her interest but it is not the same.  She comes with a woman’s attention, able to be both close and also distance at the same time, that thing of multi-tasking meaning that nobody gets full attention.  There are always competing challenges, things that have to done, a list to be completed, always moving onto the next task.  I get his undivided attention, he tells me what he wants and he makes it clear that I am what he wants.

If I were with him he would be one on one with me, I would have his full attention.

I like his maleness, his dominance, I don’t need to measure my words or my time with him, he will take whatever I want to give him, he doesn’t care he wants me as I am, however I come.  I don’t need to worry about how I phrase things, he is patient with me waits until I have managed to get out my words no judgement he responds and we move on.  I don’t have to look to see if I have made sense or if I have caused hurt he knows what to throw away and what to bring to my attention, he knows how to make me consider think through my trashy thoughts, he is kind to everyone.  I understand how he is a successful businessman, he has empathy and is ruthless, he will cut through competitors to get what he wants.

He has to do it.  I cannot.  I don’t know how. 

Fuck, I am lying again, I only have to say yes and he will be next to me.

What I mean is that I don’t know how to get rid of Michael and Beth, because I know if I get with him I cannot share him.  I will not share him.  When we get together, there will be no others – on either side. 

  * I don’t need to worry about Stella she is nearly gone, she cannot take much more, I saw what happened at the luncheon.



He has to come for me.  I won’t stop him.  If we are destroyed, we go down together.

 

I left my locket in his bedroom, I am waiting for him to return it.


	13. Interlude – Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is always stuff going on, the people who work for Armie and Timothy have their own story and sometimes their lives overlap. There is a lot going on in this period. The Jazz Age is a period of wide corruption, if you know the right people it is possible to get away with a wide range of crimes or at least serve less time than you should.
> 
> This is the world that Armie operates in, Timothy knows about it but Armie participates, he does not have the golden armour of old money to protect him, he has to get on as best he can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction, I don't know these people and they were not even born at this time.

 

Though much is taken, much abides; and though  
We are not now that strength which in old days  
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;  
One equal temper of heroic hearts,  
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will  
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.  
\- Alfred Lord Tennyson

 

Paul Schneider Timothy’s valet knows all of Timothy’s business, he is Timothy’s Barbara. He not only has control of his wardrobe he also personally handles all of Timothy’s laundry.  Manages his private diary, Timothy cannot manage without him, he is his right hand man. He knows where Timothy is at any time.  Buck knows who to call when he needs to get a message to Timothy.  He has a partner Teddy, who is part of Timothy’s support staff, so he can keep up with what is going on in the office too.  He is trusted.

One night Timothy is leaving Crystal Nights with Beth.

“Here comes the head of the faggot household.”

A drunk sneering voice behind them.  Timothy ignores it, Beth is with him, there are people watching. A photographer stands nearby.

“Look at him, I bet his wife doesn’t know he…”

Timothy swung back and hit the man smack on his nose, he fell over. He punched him again for good measure.  Blood was smashed across the man’s face, Timothy wanted to hit him again.  He held him, fist raised.

“Who the fuck do you think you are talking to?”

A flash.

Timothy dragged him up, by now the doormen had arrived.

“We’ll deal with this Mr Chalamet.  Sorry for the trouble”

Armie was proud of his man. “I’d have knocked the fucker out”.

They didn’t suppress the story, it appeared in the next day’s press. It was good PR, Timothy was seen as a man who wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty, a protector not just of his reputation but also upholding the honour of his wife and family.  After a hasty investigation the man was arrested for being drunk and disorderly in a public place, and sentenced to three months hard labour in a prison outside the state.  The criminal landscape with being gradually cleaned up, the Jazz Age was a period of lawlessness, the rich and famous on Long Island were being robbed of jewellery and stock market papers, and criminals were not afraid to return to their scenes of crimes.  They had no fear as with a little money or knowledge they could circumvent justice by paying off or applying pressure on corrupt lawmakers.  It paid to have some knowledge of pliable cops or judges. And if they couldn’t bribe before jail, they could arrange for discretionary parole effectively bribing to be let out jail early.  Armie had the chief of police in his hands.  Two years earlier, Chief Brannigan’s twenty-five son had had sex with a sixteen year old dancer, through his contacts at the ballroom Armie got to find out.  He knew that this information would come in useful, he had a quiet chat with the Chief.  He made it his business to find out how the valet had been found out.  He told Timothy to leave it to him.

Paul had been having a quiet drink in the Plaza’s public bar, there was a corner that used discreetly by men seeking other men.  There were certain seats at the bar where one sat if wanting to be approached.  He was taking a risk, but he was lonely – he couldn’t associate with the other staff in fact only one or two knew he was there and nobody knew he was associated with Timothy, he was undercover.  A young man approached him, a word – they left the bar to go for another drink in a recognised bar for homosexuals. They had another drink, used the bathroom for sex and arranged to meet again at the weekend.  The young man was called David, they met a few times, in drink Paul forgot himself and mentioned he was staying at the Plaza and explained that he was working confidentially for an important man.  He made a second mistake by bringing him back to his room at The Plaza. The man caught sight of a label containing Timothy’s initials and worked out who the important man was.  On waking Paul realised he was in trouble, instead of telling Armie or Timothy, he threw David out and ignored him when he saw him loitering outside the hotel; a week later David was outside Crystal Nights, he hadn’t meant to cause Timothy trouble and he didn’t know that Timothy slept with men, he just wanted to embarrass Paul. 

Armie felt sorry for him, and after serving two months of his sentence, he was able to get him out on discretionary parole. He set him up in a job on the Delaware & Hudson railway, working on the railway track.  He kept an eye on him, and spoke with him personally, David straightened up he realised he had run a huge risk, he could have gone to jail for much longer if it were known that the reason he was trying to embarrass Paul was because he had minded being thrown out because they had sex.  His life would have been ruined, he now was in debt to both Armie and Timothy, he was allowed to disappear from view. 

Armie’s business contacts included the head of the Railway arm of Teamsters – the Brotherhood of Railway Clerks **;** when he invested in the Las Vegas railway line, he also made it his business to find out who could disrupt his investment, he paid into their Benevolent Fund, he was protecting his investment.  He didn’t mind getting his hands dirty if it protected his money, he’d stop short of murder but virtually anything else was allowable, that was business.  He spoke quietly with Paul – he gave him one warning, no second chances, stick to your regular partner, or make your hand your best friend.

To cleanse the bar Armie hired some men from Pinkerton, they acted as decoys – they would wait at the bar and take their willing and potential lovers into bathrooms where they were warned in no uncertain terms not to come back.  Within three months, the bar was free of men seeking a tryst.


	14. Havana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love has it's own trials - Armie and Timothy move onto the next phase of their relationship. There are some things to clarify, issues to overcome but mostly it's love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction, don't @me. They were not even born at the time of this story.

"Now, I'm not going to deny that I was aware of your beauty. But the point is, this has nothing to do with your beauty. As I got to know you, I began to realise that beauty was the least of your qualities. I became fascinated by your goodness. I was drawn in by it. I didn't understand what was happening to me…And it was only when I began to feel actual, physical pain every time you left the room that it finally dawned on me: I was in love, for the first time in my life. I knew it was hopeless, but that didn’t matter to me. And it’s not that I want to have you. All I want is to deserve you. Tell me what to do. Show me how to behave. I’ll do anything you say.“

\- Dangerous Liaisons by Choderlos de Laclos.

Source: [raquelsantos92](http://raquelsantos92.tumblr.com/post/176622488503/dear-raquel-this-made-me-think-of-charmie) on Tumblr

 

Armie decides to give Timothy a birthday he will not forget – he will be thirty-two in December, Armie’s birthday is in August – on his next birthday he will be thirty five.  Beth’s pregnancy is progressing well, she is coming up to five months.  She and the baby are fine.

Both Armie and Timmy are conscious that this birthday will be the last as relatively free men.  Once the baby is born, Timmy will naturally want to spend time with his family – Armie will be invited to the christening and all family events, in appearance a close family friend, but he will not be able to spend as much time with Timothy as he has in the last two or so months.  After the 2nd The Plaza ‘lunch’, they have spent at least two nights together each week. They have been living in a kind of bubble because they are both staying at the Penthouse Suites, it suits them because they can spend time together privately and unspoiled by having to share the other.  Penthouse No.2 is now solely for Timothy’s use, it is taken out of the Hotel’s register of rooms.

Beth has been understanding, Timothy has to spend at least one night with her, so he spends the weekend at home.  This means that Timothy’s days and evenings are not restful because he also has business, cultural and artistic commitments.  He decides that he will bear it for now – it will only be for a few months, once the baby is born they will move into a new house near Central Park – a brownstone on 5th Avenue which is being redecorated; his life will naturally become centred around his family and therefore quieter – this offers opportunities and challenges. They now definitely have to at least re-decorate the apartment so it can be sold.  Beth’s hands are full between sale and purchase, there is a lot to get sorted out before baby Chalamet arrives, her husband gives her carte blanche.

Armie is wistful, he doesn’t know if he will move out of the Penthouse and back into the apartment.  He won’t marry.  He has decided that he will put up with rumour and possible gossip, he will not get some poor woman to devote her life to him when he has no intention of either sleeping with her or living in the same building. He knows some ‘sophisticated’ women who will ‘walk’ with him when needed, wives with social and cultural standing, and, wealthy husbands who know he is no threat. He and Timothy are very discreet. He has what he needs. Timothy can’t spend as much time with him as he wants, he will learn how to be patient, time will tell how things will pan out.  For now life is good.  

Casey has been understanding, that has always been, in modern parlance, a friends with benefits situation, he won’t have sex with him again nor anyone else.  They have too much that they like about each other to allow Armie’s situation to change the friendship they have developed, Casey can be trusted and in any case Armie has formally loaned him $10,000 to help his cash flow, Casey will not be a problem.

 

He decides to take Timothy to Havana for Christmas, they will fly there by the postal plane operated by Pan Am on Christmas Eve.  There are only four passenger seats on the plane – Armie buys all of them. The holiday will be private from the outset.  He could hire Jay Talbot’s private plane, he is president of Richfield Oil – Buck knows him, but that would be too public, it would land in a public space, it has eight seats it will draw attention.  The postal plane can land and he and Timothy be shuffled out of the cargo area and get away from the airfield quickly; if their arrival is processed in the normal way there is the strong possibility they will be seen.  They have had to lie about where they are going for Christmas: Timmy is visiting family in Texas vague about whether this involves Buck, when asked he talks about long lost cousins; Armie has gone to Florida for a break, in theory spending time in the Florida property and at a modern exclusive spa.  Betsy has struck up a close friendship with Buck, and has gone to stay with him in Texas. Beth is staying with her parents, for the latter two this is true.

Armie has taken great pains to make this a holiday of a lifetime; he has contacted Timothy’s housekeeper to ask about his favourite foods – he doesn’t know if he can get them there so he is taking them on the plane, he knows that Timothy has spent the odd holiday abroad, she might remember something that he mentioned enjoying.  He has asked his valet about shaving equipment, colognes and soaps – he is hopeless on these things, he knows that Timothy uses nice cologne he loves his smell. He also asks him to make sure that his favourite items of clothing, those he wore in the Hamptons, are packed.  He has already stolen the shirt Timothy was wearing when they first had sex, he keeps it wrapped in tissue and a cloth bag, it still has a faint smell of him.  He can’t help it, he is a fucking romantic.

He has ‘borrowed’ the Du Pont villa at Varadeor.  The Du Pont family are distantly related to the Chalamets and Armie has pulled every favour to organise the trip.  He has hired a maid of all work who will come in and housekeep for them, she is used to being discreet, many influential people have stayed at the villa, is used to the foibles of the rich and famous, she won’t be on site.  There is a another building on the estate, away from the house where she can stay, if necessary washing and laundry can be done without interrupting the pleasure of visitors.  Cooking will be done at the villa, but in truth Armie is planning that the fridge is  stocked with things that don’t need much preparation, he can cook, there is a brick barbeque on the beach, she won’t need to do much really mainly clean and tidy up.

Alfred Irénée Du Pont belongs to the Knickerbocker Club and he loves boxing. When Timothy had introduced them at a charity boxing event he was not know that Armie would use this connection to borrow Du Pont’s villa in Cuba for the week of his birthday.  Alfred was sympathetic and he was looking into a new subject – eugenics, he thought there must be something in the rise of homosexuality in modern New York society. He could carry out his own research, he laughed to himself realising how ridiculous he was being, this could not be a scientific study, he was aware that if he brought any observations to his scientists, they would laugh at him.  He liked them both and thought his pet ideology would help them in the future, if only to determine why they preferred men to women – that would not fully solve the question, there were men who were not exclusively homosexual, like Armie.

 

Cuba was a holiday destination of choice for men in same sex relationships, Armie loved the idea of a free thinking resort area, a relative seclusion from the everyday world.  He wanted to go to a Havanan club specialising in Cuban Bolero, he wanted the chance to have one last dance – free of disparaging comment or having to hide.  These were sanctuaries for local gay men, who wanted the lure of human voice tempered by salty lyrics and Latin music which went to the heart.  He had booked their Havana accommodation through a friend who knew about ‘male’ friendly accommodation, he didn’t want to hide or be made to feel unwelcome.  He booked with Louis who was homosexual and rented out his apartment in town to male couples.  The local inhabitants were tolerant so long as the men were discreet, they welcomed the small gifts that American visitors brought - cigarettes, bourbon, and candies.  The island was relatively wealthy, anyone who wanted to work had a job and the living standards were comparable with those in Southern Europe.  American visitors knew they were privileged but did not feel they were completely out of place.

The flight was relatively short, less than two hours from Miami, the plane dipped as it flew but the journey was tolerable.  Armie did not fly very often, in fact this was his third flight – he had flown down to Miami from New York, this was the second leg of the trip to Havana.  Timothy had flown a few times, including as a guest on a holiday in the Florida Keys, and with Armie to visit a Frank Lloyd Wright designed hotel in Mason City, Iowa.  They had visited on the pre-text of business but spent most of the trip ensconced in their adjoining hotel rooms.  They had enjoyed that trip not only for the pleasure of scoping out a business deal but also simply spending time together.

Although it was Christmas Eve, the flight to Havana went off uneventfully, on arrival they were quickly processed – someone from customs came to look at their luggage and passports, passed them through without hesitation and they got a car into town.  Louis had sent the car and prepared the apartment for them, they decided to go for a walk not even taking a rest – they wanted to see as much as possible of Havana, they were only staying two nights before going onto the resort which was on the Northern tip of the island, further east of Havana, everything looked promising.

 

Armie found his club, a semi private venue run by Aurelio a friend of Louis’, they had to sign in, promise not to use the toilet for sex and honour the ambience of the club.  They agreed to everything using the false credentials they had given to Louis, and were admitted to a room with some tables, a small dance floor to their right, a bar swung round in front of them, the bathrooms were to the left.  There was another American or European couple in the room, they nodded acquaintance. The room was unlike any club they had been to, exclusively male, it was intimate and dark, a few men were dancing together, others hanging by the bar.  Most were seated – it felt friendly.  They got rum and cokes and sat down, ten minutes later two men came out of a back room, they were carrying guitars – they took a seat on the dance floor and a few moments later plaintive song was heard.  Timothy was enjoying the music, and their voices, when he noticed that Armie was lost in the music, completely lost, he covered his hand and squeezed it: “Do you want to dance?”

Armie turned to really look at Timothy: “Yes please”

They found a corner behind their table, and drew together in a loose embrace, although he was shorter, Timothy led, gently swaying and bobbing to the rhythm, his hands resting on Armie’s shoulders, Armie placed his arms around Timothy’s body, they gently started coming closer, pressing their bodies together as their dancing became more confident.  Timothy rested his head on Armie’s shoulder, and folded his arms around Armie’s neck, no longer wanting to lead.  Armie took over, kissing the top of his head and the shell of his ear.  Nobody knew them and it was dark, it was a relief to be able to freely show affection in a public space, when the music ended Armie kissed Timothy softly on the mouth, held his hand and took him back to the table.  They left around three to go back to the villa, making love on their minds.

 

For breakfast they had rolls, guava, melon and some ham and some café con leche, which they made themselves, using a small amount of coffee and lots of milk. Armie wanted sugar with his coffee, but received a hard look from Timothy and decided to do without.

“It’s sweet enough.” was thrown at him.

Louis had stocked the fridge with breakfast and lunch foods.  They set off at ten for a walk around central Havana, the apartment was conveniently situated, not far from the centre of town above some sales outlets and a cafe, busy by day quiet by night.  If they wanted they could walk to a nearby casino and find ‘normal’ nightlife - they were not tempted, it wasn’t their scene in New York so here neither.  As it was Christmas, locals were making the final arrangements for the holiday. Tourists were taking advantage of being away from home, their normal schedules disrupted – to enjoy the unusual environment and indulge over the holiday period.  The ambience was jolly.  The town was busy, a mixture of vehicles thronged the streets – horse drawn buggies and wagons, cars and trams, long boulevards stretched from the harbour into town.   They saw a fair number of Americans, luckily no-one they knew, they had made up a story in case they were caught.  Armie was looking to invest in a hotel given that Havana town was in the process of being developed, and Timothy looking to sell oil based products.  If pressed on why they were together, they would say that they were guests of Du Pont and they had flown in together.  They got on a tram and got off at Calle O'Reilly– named for prominent Irish soldier who married a Cuban woman, went into a café for a Café Cubano.  Afterwards decided to go back to the apartment for a nap, it wasn’t overly hot but they had been walking almost all of the morning, and they wanted to go back to the Bolero Club that evening and also walk round the oldest part of Havana just before dusk.  They knew the town would be very quiet then, they would have a chance to properly look at old buildings which dated back to the 18th century.  They felt safe, and did not anticipate or encounter any problems.

 

That afternoon, they had returned to the apartment, stripped off to their underpants and lay down for a nap.  Timothy was playing big spoon and wrapped his arm around Armie.

“Armie, you are like a furnace”

“Can’t help it.”  It wasn’t the first time he had that complaint.

Timothy got up and opened a shutter door to let a little air into the room, they had closed the actual shutters so the room was shaded, it was cooler in the room than on the street.  Timothy had also set a large bowl of water by the balcony door to further cool the room.

Timothy took up his former position.

“Would you mind if I slept with other men?”

Silence. A growling noise rose from the prone Armie.

“Yes I would fucking mind.  There is no debate or discussion.  I have waited for you for nearly a year, I am not sharing you with another fucking man.  I don’t care if it is just fucking.  It matters to me that you are faithful to me.  Am I clear? Now I am going to sleep, don’t fucking wake me with any more fucking stupid questions, you motherfucker – why is it necessary to give me grief?”

A few seconds later.

“You can’t stop me.”

What the fuck!  Armie sat up.

“Armie. I have always had variety of lovers.  Michael was very accommodating, he accepted that I needed to, I should say experiment.  Beth never minded. I am not used to being tied to one person.  I don’t know if I can do it.”

“OK”

Armie took Timothy’s anxiety seriously, he saw someone who was actually frightened of the commitment this would necessitate. He took in Timothy’s concerned face.

“If I only sleep with you and to a lesser extent, Beth, I don’t know…for some reason…that makes me feel…tied down…claustrophobic…caged…restricted”

“Timothy, I can only tell you how you make me feel.  You have to make a decision about this and if I don’t like it you may not like the outcome.

From the first time I met you in person I wanted to be with you.  I made it my business to be where you were.  I wanted to spend time with you to find out who you were, what interested you, find out about your badness and your goodness – it doesn’t matter to me if you are not always the best person you could be.  I am interested in you, you, essentially you Timothy.  Nobody else interests me.  I tolerate Beth only because she is necessary for us to be together.  Do you understand, I have no need of any other person.  That does not mean that I do not love other people, of course I do but I know where my heart is and it is with you.  Can I make myself any clearer?  I will not share you with other men.  Your person and your body are mine, am I clear?

You have to find a way of dealing with your sense of claustrophobia – it isn’t claustrophobia in my opinion.  You may be afraid of love, of commitment, to love me and what that means. I know that I love you Timothy, and I have been in love with you since the Gala. Part of my loving you is not sharing you.  I cannot do an open relationship, that is not love to me – so please, no more fucking around”.

Timothy smiled, he thought he was just fucking with Armie. 

But the question came back. Or was he?  He loved dick. He didn’t know if he could stick to just one. He thought of the variety of lovers he had in the past – he gained something from each of them. They had made him complete, what he was today. There it was, out.  He admitted it to himself.  But he didn’t want Armie to fuck anyone else. No, no, no, him fucking others was out.  Armie belonged to him.  Transparently, no doubt about it, they were both covetous people, they didn’t share, they didn’t want anyone else to be fucking their partner.  How was he going to deal with this?  He wanted the same freedom that he had before, the choice to be exclusive when he chose. He couldn’t apply one rule for himself and another for Armie.  This was going to be difficult.

 

They lay back down, this time Armie played the big spoon – they would definitely need to bathe.


	15. Havana - Night 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timothy is a naughty boy,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction, don't @ me. They were not even born at this time.

All my past life is mine no more,   
The flying hours are gone,  
Like transitory dreams giv'n o'er,  
Whose images are kept in store  
By memory alone.

The time that is to come is not;  
How can it then be mine?  
The present moment's all my lot;  
And that, as fast as it is got,  
Phyllis, is only thine.

Then talk not of inconstancy,  
False hearts, and broken vows;  
If I, by miracle, can be  
This live-long minute true to thee,  
'Tis all that Heav'n allows.   
\- Lord John Wilmot

 

They got to the club around midnight, different staff were serving.  A feline grey eyed young man came to their table to ask if they needed drinks, the night before they had to go to the bar for drinks, this was unusual. Timothy looked into his face, and smiled.  He was a good-looking boy of around twenty-five.  He had purposely caught Timothy’s eye and come straight to their table.  Armie might as well not have been there, a spectator in the transaction. This was simultaneously anxiety making and sexually stimulating; in his head he saw Timothy’s cock in the boy’s mouth.  His cock started misbehaving, it wanted to stand up.  He grabbed Timothy’s arm and dragged him out of the club, they had only been there half an hour. 

“Don’t fucking tempt me.”

He pulled him into the alley behind the club, at the back of some kind of building, undid his trousers. Started pulling at Timothy’s clothes, buttons were flying.

“Drop your pants.”

Armie grabbed him by slinging an arm across his shoulders and chest. He spat on his hand, wiped his cock.

“You better be fucking ready”

“I wasn’t going to let him fuck me”

Armie paused, thought better, he didn’t want to be the first American tourist to be arrested on Christmas Day with his trousers down, dick in another man.

“We’re going back to the apartment”

 

When they got back, Timothy turned the tables – Armie had barely got the door open when Timothy was pressing against him, he snaked his hands round and rubbed Armie’s erect cock through his trousers, they got in before the steps they heard on the stairs reached their floor. Once through the door he continued caressing Armie’s dick. They stood for some moments, Timothy stroking, Armie standing still, legs apart.  He could feel Timothy’s dick rising against his ass.  Timothy positioned himself so that his dick was rubbing Armie’s ass, he placed his cock between the butt cheeks, Armie wanted more, to actually feel that dick. Timothy stood off, and brought his body close again, his mouth was just behind Armie’s ear.

“I want to fuck you Armie.”

“Yesss…why are you asking…”

Clothes disappeared.

 

“What the fuck is the matter with you?”

Timothy wasn’t even repentant.  He just looked up at Armie, removed his dick from his mouth.

“I love dick.”

“Well you better fall in love with mine, motherfucker.”

 

Timothy took Armie’s dick into his mouth again. Armie was uncut, so he took the hood just into his lips and started sucking on it like it was a lollipop.  Armie’s head went back, eyes defocussed, Jesus, Timothy was so good at this.  Timothy closed his mouth, spread his tongue where the hood divided, drew it back and forth.  Armie took his head, a handful of hair, and started to fuck his mouth which closed around his dick.

“Oh my God, Timothy that is so fucking…”

He stood firm on his feet, his hips swaying back and forth.  He stopped, looked down, Timothy’s mouth was soft, red and open. His lips plush, they looked like velvet, Armie wanted to taste them.  He drew him up, closed his mouth round Timothy’s lips, used his tongue to taste them, to press into the depth of his mouth, to draw out the taste of himself, to taste Timothy’s saliva mixed with his juice, sucking everything, every flavour into his own mouth.  His dick was hard, Timothy took hold of his balls and pulled them, he held them, every time Armie pressed his tongue into his mouth, he pulled.

“Fuck, let me come please, stroke me…please Timothy”

Timothy laughed. Fucker.

“Turn round”

He went to his bag and pulled something out which Armie thought was a constipation medical aid.  But it wasn’t quite the right shape.

“What are you going to do with that?”

His dick was so hard that he knew two or three hard tugs would set him off, he was trying to keep his hands off.

Timothy went back into the bag and brought out a tube of something, the box had K Y on it.   He squeezed some clear jelly like substance into his hand, rubbed some on the medical aid.

“I had this made, it will give you the best orgasm you have ever had.”

Armie thought he couldn’t do better than he was doing now, the orgasm was already waiting for him at the back of his dick, down there, above his balls in some unknown space, it felt like a big one.

“Turn back round, and bend over.”

Armie felt Timothy caress his ass, fingers spread, feeling, teasing his hole, fingers exploring, sunk into him, his cock began twitching.  Growling, grunting and hissing commenced.  He wanted to hold on to something.  He was fucked up.  Something was sliding into his hole, a moment of pain, then…Christ…what was that…he bent to further open his hole, bent over further, a spasm of pleasure ran up his back…he forgot about the hardness of his dick…something down there was dancing and he could hardly think.  He thought he could hear Timothy laughing softly.  Timothy’s hands continued to stroke and caress his ass, spread them, blew gently, a liquid ran down and round whatever was in his ass.  He didn’t want it to stop.

“How is that?”

He felt like saying don’t fucking talk to me, I’m busy.

He started to make small movements, micro fucking movements, clenching and unclenching, tipping his hips, rings of further pleasure spread from just behind his dick. The plug was pressing down on his prostrate.  Timothy gently placed one hand on his dick, stroking gently, gently holding while Armie’s dick fucked his hand. His other hand was tracing the curves of his back, the shape of his body, then he pressed into him, dick rubbing up and down against the plug, hands feeling across and round his body, down his stomach, pinching his nipple, brushing the nipple then across to the other squeezing and flicking.

“Do you want to come now?”

“Yes” Was he fucking crazy?  Of course he did.

He was engulfed with pleasure, his eyes closed, mind only aware of body, lost in the depth and strength of the orgasm.  It was several minutes before he came back to himself, pulsing sensations radiating from his centre beginning to fade, his breath ragged, he became slowly aware of his body, his hands were holding onto Timothy’s arms which were wrapped around him. He became conscious of Timothy holding him, chest to his back, groin to ass, a hard dick pressing against him – wait, he hadn’t been fucked yet and his own dick was still engorged, he fucking loved this man. Timothy pulled out the plug, a moment’s grace, momentary pleasure and then Armie missed the sensation of being filled, he was open, it was delicious, his hole was soon occupied with Timothy’s dick, fucking him hard, long and hard strokes the whole dick seated and unseated, finally as orgasm approached, bodily motions became shorter sharper.  He was being pushed down, Timothy began to strike his prostrate every time he moved in and out, he was overwhelmed, he could feel a different type of climax coming, his dick was hard again, a mixture of pain and pleasure, waves of sensation, he blacked out.  This time when he came round, Timothy was holding him from the front, in fact holding him up, and taking him to bed.  Timothy kissed his cheek, held his face and slowly blew across his mouth, kissed his open mouth dry before they lay down, in his own way Timothy had put his mark on Armie, he sexually possessed him.

They didn’t bother to bathe, got into bed, drew up a sheet, and went to sleep – holding each other tightly, Christmas Day ending perfectly.


	16. Varadero, Cuba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holiday is moving into its second phase - a parallel to their relationship. Armie and Timothy are going to the resort of Varadero, which was fairly new. It was a playground for the rich and famous. Cuba at that time was a sought after place to visit, it had lovely beaches, the people were friendly, good entertainment - clubs, casinos, areas of exclusivity which celebrities and gangsters wanted to be seen in. Because it was an exclusive resort and a private house, it was probably fairly safe for them to visit, they are discreet, but people are not stupid...how are they going to hide their tan on their return?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction don't @ me. They were not even born.

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan  
A stately pleasure-dome decree :  
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran  
Through caverns measureless to man  
Down to a sunless sea.  
So twice five miles of fertile ground  
With walls and towers were girdled round :  
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,  
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;  
And here were forests ancient as the hills,  
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

’ – Coleridge

 

 

The next day they travelled to Varadero, as they approached, their breath were taken away by the villa and it’s beachfront position – Xanadu, as it was called.

The words of the famous poem came to Armie’s mind, followed by another of Coleridge’s poems – ‘Love’.  He was feeling very blessed.

All thoughts, all passions, all delights,   
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,   
All are but ministers of Love,   
And feed his sacred flame.

The housekeep greeted them, took their bags despite both Armie and Timothy’s protestations.  She ushered them into an open living area, a large room that opened out onto the golf course, it wasn’t a verandah more spaces that bled into each other.  Although both Timothy and Armie were wealthy, they now recognised the difference between the truly wealthy i.e. those who couldn’t count how much they were worth, and themselves who whilst wealthy, knew exactly what bank account held which monies, they were awe-struck.  In fact they felt like naughty schoolboys, wondering what mischief they could get up to.

They had been put into the opposite wing to the DuPont’s’ bedrooms, husband and wife preferring to sleep in separate but adjoining rooms, so the wife could escape heavy drinking Alfred’s snoring.

 

They had flown in on Monday, it was now Wednesday, Timothy’s birthday was the next day.  They would fly out on the following Monday, which they would use to travel back to Havana for the late afternoon flight back to Miami.   As the estate was still under construction and it was a major holiday, they had the entire building to themselves.  The Housekeep assured them that the family would not mind their exploring the house. So once they had worked out their bearings in the house they took it easy, it was strange to be in a large house where there no one around, almost too quiet.  They knew they would only be using their bedrooms, in truth only Armie’s bedroom, the verandah, a sitting room with comfortable chairs a radio and record player and the small family kitchen where they could make their own drinks and simple meals.  They decided to ask Agnes to prepare a simple evening meal, something like a salad or cold soup which they could eat with some cut meats and bread, and to take away laundry to be brought back the next day – there were a few things that needed buttons replacing and Timothy’s shirt which Armie had torn in excitement – Timothy was going to throw it away, Armie wanted it unwashed but mended for his collection of things ‘borrowed’. They wanted for nothing else. There were no houses around, it was a secluded quiet spot with its own private beach.  They were looking forward to the next few of days – there was nothing to do except to relax.  Because it was private they could do more or less what they wanted.  They asked Agnes, the Housekeep to come in at 11.00 and 5.00pm, they could manage otherwise and this mean they knew when they had to ‘behave’.

That first evening, they listened to the radio and read books, taking up position on a large sofa with Armie seated and Timothy lying across him, his head in Armie’s lap, Armie’s hands drifting though his soft wavy hair, the windows were open – a mosquito net built in as a secondary layer, a bonus only available to the truly wealthy.

At first they did not realise they could get some English speaking stations, they played around and found a few stations with American presenters and music.  The radio formed the background to their time in the villa, sound reverberated pleasantly through their section of the house.

“What do you want to do tomorrow, baby?”

Timothy turned his green eyes upon Armie, whose heart fluttered when this attention was given to him, he could not get used to having Timothy to himself without having to worry about being seen or thinking that it was only for that night not sure when he would see him again. Armie gazed at this man, this man who he had come to love fiercely.

“Let’s use the things you brought with you, we can make a picnic and go to the beach”

Armie had brought some tinned ham and tinned pineapple with him. Timothy had a childish love for these two items.  They could make some sandwiches, bring some leftover salad and decant the fruit into a container they found in the kitchen.  Armie wondered if they could buy ice cream at the beach, that would be perfect with the fruit.  It didn’t matter that these tinned items were available in Cuba, it was the thought that counted for Timothy.

“I was being selfish the other night…”

“Really?  Do tell, why were you being selfish?”

“Fucking other men”

“OK… so what am I take from this?”

“Armie, I get it – we are not married, so I was treating you like I have treated my other lovers.  We aren’t married so I felt free to take other lovers, after all I don’t sleep with other women, so I didn’t feel like I was cheating on Beth and in any case I am not sexually exclusive with her.  I had it justified in my head, we are not married so therefore I can sleep with who I wanted, I am of course talking of men, I have no interest in other women, be sure about that.

After that young man came on to me, I was intrigued and I am not going to lie, I thought could I get away for a quick fuck?  Then the light went on in my head when you grabbed me.  I really did think, is this what I want, the constant searching or waiting for an opportunity? Would I risk what I had with you for a ten minute fuck in a toilet stall or behind a building and all that entails?  Risk venereal disease for a quick fuck when the sex we have is so satisfying?  I thought that having one male lover was restrictive, I am coming to realise that in fact it is very freeing. It is an opportunity to be settled without settling.  I would marry you Armie if I could; that is what I have realised if I want to marry you the same conditions have to apply.  No more fucking around”

He reached up and Armie reached down, a kiss to settle the fact that they knew they were made for each other.

 

The next day Timothy turned thirty-two, Armie gave him a Santos de Cartier bracelet with thirty two links specially commissioned from Cartier, armie x timothy 1928 engraved a letter a link, the engraving only visible to those who knew it was there.  Timothy could wear it and not be detected or embarrassed.

 

The next couple of days passed fairly uneventfully, they went up at ten, rose at eight, had breakfast on the verandah, lunch on the beach, an afternoon nap, one night dinner in the house, the next night at a restaurant in town, the resort was just finding it’s legs, the food wasn’t great, they laughed at the fact that Armie had tried to order prawns in his best Spanish. He spoke Spanish reasonably well (he could converse with and understand Agnes) and instead ordered a rubber, no one knew who was more embarrassed, the waiter or Armie, who was burning very red when he realised his mistake.  Timothy caught mild sun burn on his dick, no one was around so he had decided to sun bathe naked - he loved to bake in the sun, his skin turned a golden hue very easily, but he fell asleep, Armie had gone back to the house to go to the bathroom and woke him when he returned, by then it was a little too late.  Armie gave him a blow job in public on the beach, that seemed to cure the problem.

 

Sunday came round, nearly time to leave, mournful feelings set in.  Armie picked up the mood and decided that it was best to endure and enjoy rather than think about the fact that they had to go back to the US the next day.  Agnes’ brother used his car as a taxi or hired it out to visitors, so Armie booked the car to drive to Bellamar caves, a natural phenomenon of deep caves with stalagmites and stalactites, there was a café nearby, so they could have lunch there and go onto Matanzas town centre to look at a couple of buildings which were supposedly worth seeing.

“Agnes can cook us a ‘proper’ dinner.  Don’t fret so.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Get in here you fucker. Take what you want” – Armie lay naked on the bed, dick in hand, playing with it.

“This is our last night here, I want to spend it fucking”

Timothy swallowed hard.  Armie had refused him last night now he knew why – when Armie got into this kind of mood, he could literally go from one orgasm to the next.  The dick was calling again.

“I want you to fuck me” 

Timothy knew that Armie would not want to come on first fuck, he made plans.

“Get on your knees, ass in the air, spread your legs.” Timothy didn’t bother to stimulate himself, he knew he would grow hard just from preparing Armie, he licked his lips, he liked to lick Armie from his dick to his balls, he liked his smell, the feel of him in his mouth and his hands – he could taste him already, his cock quickened.  He slapped Armie’s ass hard, it was unexpected – Armie’s dick lengthened and grew hard, hanging down in anticipation. Timothy slapped his ass several times, it was stinging nicely, tingling, Armie was now wary, he knew that Timothy was not going to spare him he was going to test him.

Timothy licked his hole, it clenched he rubbed his tongue roughly against it several times, slapped him again – this time it hurt, involuntary clenching, unexpected pre-come arrived.  Timothy got out the lubricant, applied it to his fingers, circled Armie’s hole and pushed two fingers straight in, they slipped in easily – Armie gasped.  Fuck, Timothy was not playing, he relaxed – Armie would see what else he had for him.  The two fingers scissored his hole, circling it stretching it.  He was groaning, making sex sounds, he was not by nature a silent lover, Timothy always knew exactly where he was in the process of an orgasm.  He knew he was a good way in and Armie was enjoying what was being done to him. The nerve endings in his ass were coming alive, that lubricant allowed him to take more than he normally would dry, Timothy’s fingers continued to play with him.  Then they were gone. Timothy didn’t warn him, another slap followed by dick.  By this time, Armie’s ass was hot, Timothy had ensured that the slaps overlapped but concentrated them on the meat of Armie’s ass.  He withdrew:

“Lie on your stomach, open your legs and let me in, close them when I am in you”

Timothy placed a pillow under Armie’s groin, pulled his dick downwards towards his feet and positioned himself so he could fuck Armie deeply, Armie’s dick was pulled down for maximum friction.  Now Armie was scared, he knew that this position was his one of favourites and that he liked to apply it to Timothy, and, he knew that it was something that he was going to enjoy, he might have to come after all, his dick was beyond hard already, it wouldn’t take much – Timothy was above him, the pillow underneath, his ass was burning and his hole was stretched just to the right point.  He couldn’t wait for Timothy to start moving, except he didn’t.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Keep quiet, I’m running things, you told me to take what I wanted, and I am”

Timothy spread his legs either side of Armie and started pounding him into the bed. His dick hit the spot on every stroke, a straight downward stroke.  Mentally Armie was in chaos, oh my god...everything was going on in his lower half, his hole a ring of sensation, his ass tightening, the orgasm was just sitting there waiting to go off, if only he could really relax…he tried but his ass began to grip Timothy, he was losing control. “Slow down please…I can feel…I’m ready…”  The fucker withdrew again.

“I want you to ride me, get up”

Timothy’s slim frame belied his capability to manage Armie, he settled in the armchair, throwing the clothes on the floor, placed cushions under his legs and behind him.

“Get on, that’s it, sit forward…that’s it…hmm…you have to do the work, I can’t lift you… ahh… yes… that’s good”  He put his hand on Armie’s dick, lightly holding the head – the dick resumed full hardness, Armie’s head was rolling in pleasure, then rocked back, his eyes were fluttering open and shut, he was biting his lips, senses fully lit.  Timothy squeezed him suddenly and like that Armie came, cum spurting into Timothy’s hand, he carried on squeezing, Armie was resting on his legs, he squeezed all the cum from Armie’s dick, passed his hand over his lips and then over Armie’s.

“I haven’t finished with you yet – I am going to give you fifteen minutes, you are going to give me my orgasm.”

Armie just wanted to sleep, he was normal…he had come…it was intense… it was time to sleep.

Timothy got some tissues and wiped his hands and the cum from the floor, luckily there was no carpet, all wooden floors.

There was an ensuite with shower, he ran it – tepid water, the outside temperature was still high. He didn’t want to start sweating.  He went back to the bedroom, Armie was laid out across the bed, eyes gently closing.

“Come on Armie, get up”  Armie was groggy but he obeyed.

“You have to wash me and then give me my orgasm”

At this, Armie woke up, this was going to be fun.

He got in the shower with Timothy and washed him, raising arms, wiping under arms and between his legs, lifting a foot, forcing the cloth between his ass cheeks – Timothy gasped at that, the dick stuck straight out waiting for attention.  He rinsed Timothy’s body, turned the shower off, got a towel, and knelt on it – god knows what Agnes was going to make of the mess tomorrow.  He took Timothy into his mouth, sucking hard, now it was time for Timothy to make his form of sex noises, he tended to make noises in his throat, soft hmms up from deep in his body, literally smacked his lips, bit them, he had tells as well.  He liked Armie to suck him and look at him at the same time – it was easier when he was sat down.  This time Timothy closed his eyes and let Armie get on with it, a hand was snaking up the inside of his leg, Armie had applied some lubricant, he pressed a finger into Timothy who shuddered with pleasure, he added another finger, slid them in and out, carried on sucking as best he could. He remembered the plug.

“Where is that thing?”

“Over there, I washed it – put it in”

Armie examined it.  “Which way does it go in?”  Timothy showed him, he’d remember for next time.

He added lubricant, introduced it to Timothy’s ass, a quick intake of breath, a muttered “Fuck”.  He stepped in front of Timothy and pulled him towards the wall, this had some effect, so he walked him round the bathroom, holding his dick. Timothy was somewhat overcome.  He turned Timothy towards the wall, made him curve, leaning onto the wall, rounded but not bent he knew the plug was just lightly pressing inside him, and knelt in front of him again, using his towel.  He recommenced sucking him, taking his time, striping his licks, holding his balls, using his fingers to trace patterns where his mouth wasn’t. Timothy was making guttural sounds.  He bit him near where he had left marks previously not so deep, more squeezing flesh between his teeth, rubbing his teeth against soft flesh gently.  Took Timothy into his mouth again as deep as he could, relaxed his gag reflex, opened his throat and with his tongue started swiping, pulled back a bit when it became uncomfortable and closed his mouth around Timothy’s dick; opened his throat again and with that Timothy came, Armie took all offered and swallowed as he came, the sensation of being enclosed in Armie’s mouth and the plug made Timothy lose control involuntarily.  They were both wiped out, and readily went to sleep, rising only with Agne’s tactful knock on the kitchen door.

 

New Year’s Eve was spent in Armie’s house in Florida, glasses of champagne each, watching fireworks from the bedroom balcony, quietly savouring the time they had had together, discussing and anticipating what they wanted for the future, they knew they were in for the long haul, whatever that may be.  During their time together they had proved that they were suited and meant to be together, they had worked through troubles, they knew life was not simple, current times may be carefree – they had to be prepared, things and people change; they had the wherewithal to bear whatever life threw at them and they knew they would be facing whatever came together.  

They raised their glasses and celebrated as 1929 came drifting in.  Their future looked bright.


	17. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fiction don't @ me.

Armie sat on the grass the late afternoon sun throwing down the last full rays of the day. It was indeed golden days.  His son lay in his arms, tousled tow coloured hair, under his nose the smell of dirt, sunshine and of Edward. He was precious. His dimpled fingers were in Armie's, he looked at them felt the soft skin turned them over, and turned them back.  He remembered the desire he had for Timothy, that heartfelt sense of having someone that belonged to you, he now felt that with his son. The feeling doubled, because he never lost that desire for Timothy. His heart had opened, there was space. He had learned in the last three years that where there is love there is always time and space to love more.

Timothy sat nearby his head initially in some business papers, he felt the end of the day drawing close, soon it would be time for bed.  He glanced across and smiled as he anticipated the screaming that would ensue, Charlie was never tired and was convinced that bedtime was a punishment; at the moment only Stella had the patience to help him go to sleep. It was a phase he knew he would grow out of, he was struggling to establish himself within the family group, more Armie's child than his own. He smiled again, this was his family he had a future. The legacy secure, the Chalamet-Hammer children proof of that.  The companies would have a Chalamet or a Hammer at their heart. He felt blessed.

Ruby Therese and Charles Jnr. were running across the lawn into Stella's arms, their hair a reflection of their father's raven but now prematurely greying hair; she was back for good. Godmother, resident Aunt and playmate. Timothy and Armie had no need of a nanny, Beth and Stella ran their homes, cared for the children and acted as their companions when required.  They had adjoining duplex apartments at the building where Armie lived.  In total there were eight bedrooms everyone had their own room and there was a spare suite for visitors - Buck or Betsy.  They could not risk other visitors, Armie and Timothy normally shared a bedroom but on other nights visits were made or visitors welcomed, it was only fair.

Beth lay in a long deck chair, the green cloth faded. They were at Longhouse, Buck had bought and torn down the Wyckoff Estate, built a mansion in modern style, but they liked it here.  It was private, they had the lawn and the woods, the woods where Armie first realised how much he loved Timothy.  Betsy stayed with Buck. Longhouse was cosy, they had to share but it felt like a home, the sharing made it so.

She wore tinted glasses, and her favourite summer hat which Armie had bought for her when she was carrying Edward. She looked up from her magazine, her children were in good hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have really enjoyed writing this. And I have loved the comments, they are the first thing I turn to, it is very encouraging to get comments and to understand that what I tried communicate has resonated. Makes it all worthwhile. Thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos.


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